


When Winter Doesn't End

by RuArcher (Coriesocks)



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling, Harry Potter and the Cursed Child - Thorne & Rowling
Genre: Accidental Voyeurism, Albus won't stop whining, Background Relationships, Cold Weather, Community: hp_drizzle, Fluff, Friends to Lovers, Getting Together, Hot Chocolate, Ice Skating, Jealousy, Light Angst, M/M, Minor Draco Malfoy/Harry Potter, Minor Injuries, Pining, Sledging, Snow, Snow Angels, Snowball Fight, Snowmen, minor Teddy lupin/James Sirius
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-09-11
Updated: 2018-09-11
Packaged: 2019-06-27 12:37:57
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 10
Words: 39,935
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15685590
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Coriesocks/pseuds/RuArcher
Summary: Albus really hates snow, and Scorpius won't take no for an answer.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Prompt O25: Do Ya Wanna Build A Snowman? Convincing grumpy to come out and have fun in the snow.
> 
> Thank you to my beta, M, who did an amazing job and has my endless gratitude! Any mistakes left are all on me.
> 
> The title comes from the song of the same name by The Murderburgers because i love that band and it seemed to fit.

Albus had hated snow for as long as he could remember. This was a fact well known to anyone who’d had to spend more than a day with him over winter. He didn’t hate winter itself, though; there were few things he loved more than curling up beside a roaring fire with a good book and a mug of hot chocolate, while the wind hurled sleet and snow against the windows. But when it settled on the ground and started impacting his ability to go about his day as normal—that he could do without. _That’s_ the snow he hated.

Unfortunately, no one else seemed to understand this hatred for the white fluffy stuff. No matter how many times he plainly stated his dislike, people always tried to get him to go outside to ‘play’ in it. This was why he’d groaned internally when he noticed that the snow which had been threatening to fall over Hogwarts for the past week had gone and done just that overnight. He could tell from the excited chatter in the corridors and the Great Hall that it was only a matter of time before someone tried to rope him into a snowball fight or something equally as pointless.

At least, he was safe with Scorpius. _He_ would never make Albus go outside in this awful weather.

Snowy days like this made him really regret his choice of school. They made him wish he’d campaigned harder to get sent to Castelobruxo; he’d never have to suffer snow in the rainforest. He glanced up at the ceiling to torture himself because yes, of course, it was still shitting snow. He exhaled heavily and stabbed a sausage on the platter before him, sending several of its brother sausages skidding onto the table.

“Who piddled in your pumpkin juice?” Scorpius asked, sparing a disapproving look for the mess Albus had created. He pursed his lips, then pointedly vanished the ‘soiled’ food with a wave of his wand and a muttered spell.

“What?” Albus said, frowning at his friend in confusion.

“You’ve been in a grump since you woke up,” Scorpius said, “and I’ve finally decided to be a good friend and ask you what’s wrong, in the vain hope that I can shake you out of it.”

Albus rolled his eyes. “It’s snowing. You know I hate snow,” he said sullenly. Why did people never remember this?

“Still? I rather thought you might have grown out of that by now. Seriously, what has snow ever done to you?”

“It’s cold. It’s wet. It makes people act weird. It’s basically the weather version of New Year’s Eve; everyone feels like they have to have fun so they force it. I hate being forced to have fun.”

“Of course. Merlin forbid you ever allow yourself to have fun. Why are we even friends?” Scorpius said, shaking his head fondly. His lips curled into a smirk and his eyes lit up. “Come on you, up! I have an idea.”

Albus shrunk back into his seat. He didn’t like it when Scorpius got that look on his face; it almost always meant he was about to suggest something he knew Albus wouldn’t like. “Why? Where are we going?” he asked hesitantly.

“It’s high time you learnt some appreciation for the best weather Mother Nature has to offer. We’re going to build a snowman!” Scorpius exclaimed. He stood up, abandoning his half-eaten bacon sandwich, and tugged on Albus’ sleeve to get him moving. 

Albus groaned, causing several other Slytherins to turn and look at him. “Fuck off, are we,” he groused. “You can do what you like, but I’m staying here.” To emphasise his point, he folded his arms across his chest and scowled.

“Albuuuus,” Scorpius whined, now tugging lightly on a straggly lock of Albus’ hair since his sleeves were tucked away. “Come oooon. It’ll be fun!”

“It’s not fun. Reading is fun. Gobstones is fun. Blowing things up is fun. Even homework can be fun sometimes. Getting cold and wet for absolutely no good reason is _not_ fun.”

“Fine, suit yourself, Mr Grumpyboots, but mark my words, I _will_ get you to enjoy the snow before this winter is over.”

“Then I look forward to proving you wrong.”

Scorpius paused, a calculating look crossing his face. “Are you issuing a challenge?” he asked, his voice suddenly softer—more dangerous.

Albus cursed inwardly. “What? No! I was—”

“Nope, sorry, no excuses, there was definitely a challenge issued,” Scorpius said, cutting off Albus’ feeble protest. They both knew Scorpius had won this battle already, so everything else was just for show. Albus needed Scorpius to know he wasn’t a complete pushover, and Scorpius, good friend that he was, let him have it.

“Scorp! You can’t—” Albus tried.

“Nope, not listening.” Scorpius stuck his fingers in his ears before dropping his hands down to his hips. “Well? Are you coming?”

“I’ve already told you, I’ve absolutely no intention of freezing my bollocks off in pursuit of this so-called ‘fun’,” Albus stated, in what was his last-ditch attempt to escape Scorpius’ scheme.

“So, let me get this right—what you’re saying is that you concede defeat?” Scorpius asked carefully, as if speaking to a child.

“No! I—”

“Well, what are you waiting for then? If you’re going to prove me wrong, you’re actually going to have to come outside, so step lively!”

Albus narrowed his eyes and pouted. “I hate you,” he muttered, pushing himself up from the table and stomping after his friend.

 

* * *

 

The snow was still falling heavily when Albus gingerly stepped out from under the protection of the entrance hall. He grimaced as he surveyed the grounds, now completely white apart from the dark shapes of students foolish enough to be outside. He couldn’t understand why everyone went so silly for snow; it just made it ten times harder to go anywhere or get anything done—and on top of that, it was so cold!

A group of excitable first or second years barrelled out of the entrance hall and darted into the grounds. Albus glowered as he watched them, mentally preparing himself for the coming activity. He tugged his woollen hat further down his forehead and pulled his scarf more tightly around his face so only his eyes were visible. Scorpius bustled past him on the steps, chattering brightly about the snow family he’d made with his father when they were holidaying in the Alps a few years past. It was hard to stay grumpy in the presence of someone so consistently cheerful, but Albus was going to give it his best shot.

Scorpius stopped when he realised Albus wasn’t following him. “Come on, you miserable old sod. Don’t try to fight it; embrace the joy of snow!” He twirled around in a circle, his hands and face raised to the sky. Albus curled up his lip in disgust, tempted to turn around and head back inside. He’d never been very good at resisting his friend’s plans, however—no matter how ridiculous and far-fetched they were. With a final, longing glance over his shoulder at the castle, Albus stomped after his friend, regretting every decision that had brought him to this point.

“This looks as good a place as any,” Scorpius announced after about ten minutes of struggling through snow that was already halfway to his knees. He’d stopped at a seemingly random point in the middle of the grounds, which looked no different from anywhere else. Albus spun around to get his bearings since the snow cover had obscured all obvious landmarks—another reason to hate snow, he thought bitterly—and worked out that they were about halfway between the castle and the Forbidden Forest.

“I thought we’d start small—ease you into things gently,” Scorpius said, bringing Albus’ attention back to him.

“Couldn’t we have stayed closer to the school for this?” Albus asked, eyeing the dark, threatening shadow of the forest that loomed over them, the blanket of snow failing to lessen its oppressiveness.

“Of course not. The snow here is better, less trampled. We want nothing but the best for our snowmen.”

“Snowmen? Plural?”

“Yes! I thought we could make one each. They don’t have to be big, maybe about yea high,” he said, holding his palm out flat at chest height. “That way, you can hone your snowman-building skills before we try out more complex projects.”

Albus groaned. “Isn’t there a spell we could use for this? I’m sure Uncle George showed me something once—”

“Sacrilege!” Scorpius cried, clutching his chest dramatically. “Where’s the fun in that? This has to be done the proper, Muggle way or not at all!”

Albus muttered under his breath and stuffed his gloved hands into the pockets of his robe—the thickest winter robe he’d been able to find. He watched as Scorpius threw himself at the task, scraping snow together and shaping a large lump that he proceeded to roll through the snow. Albus watched it steadily increased in size. A smile tugged at the corners of his mouth despite his best efforts to remain miserable. Scorpius looked so serious, frowning in concentration, the tip of his tongue poking out from between his lips. It was ridiculously cute how earnestly he was taking the task.

“You know, you’ll enjoy yourself much more if you actually try building something,” Scorpius called from beside his now waist-high snowball.

Albus blinked and shook himself, suddenly conscious that he’d been staring at Scorpius for at least five minutes. His face wasn’t cold anymore, though, what with the ferocity of his sudden blush.

“I wouldn’t be so sure about that,” he grumbled, but he started moving anyway. Scorpius looked like he was beginning to get exasperated with him, and the last thing Albus wanted to do was upset him. Having fun in the snow obviously meant a lot to him—for whatever reason—so Albus knew the least he could do was try and not be too much of a dick about it.

He bent down and started gathering the snow into a heap. He decided to try out a different tactic to the one Scorpius was using, which looked like it involved significantly more effort than he was willing to put in. He scraped, scooped, and kicked the snow into a rough mound, then patted it into more of a ‘body’ shape. It was a bit like building a sandcastle—another activity he wasn’t overly fond of—only with cold, numb, fingers.

After fifteen minutes of gathering and compacting snow into something vaguely snowman-shaped, Albus checked on Scorpius’ progress. He knew his meagre attempt would be no match for the beast Scorpius was creating, but he was curious to see just how pitiful his snow-blob was by comparison. He hadn’t been expecting Scorpius to be looking right back at him though, a peculiar expression on his face. At some point, Scorpius had unwound his scarf from his face, letting it hang loosely around his neck. His white-blond hair stuck out in tufts from under his hat, where he’d pushed it back off his forehead. His face was flushed from the cold—or possibly from the exertion of pushing around a huge snowball—but he looked happy. A soft, fond smile played at his lips that Albus couldn’t help but mirror.

 _Maybe Scorpius was right_ , Albus thought as he added a bit more snow to the top of his blob. This playing-with-snow thing wasn’t _so_ bad—though he would never admit that out loud. Okay, so his fingers were numb, and his cheeks felt raw, but Scorpius looked so happy—

“Heads up!” someone yelled, the sound coming from somewhere on the left, and startling Albus enough that he almost fell face-first into his snowman.

He whipped his head around, searching for the source of the sound, and was just in time to witness a large snowball—more like a snow-beachball, he thought abstractedly—whizz past his face. It was close enough that he felt a gust of extra-chilled air on his exposed skin. The air crackled with magic, which must have been used to propel the monstrosity towards them. He let out the breath he’d been holding, relieved at narrowly avoiding a face full of snow, but then heard a muffled ‘ _Ooof_ ’ from the direction of where Scorpius had been.

“What the—!?” Scorpius spluttered, brushing the snow off his face. He was completely covered in snow but, other than wiping his face, made no attempt to shake it off; he stood stock-still, wide-eyed in disbelief at the now-headless snowman in front of him. “My snowman! Who...? What…? No!” He fell to his knees, and Albus watched helplessly as he tried to reshape the head from the lumps of compacted snow that littered the ground.

“Oh my god, I’m so sorry, Scorp!” cried a familiar voice. As the figure approached, Albus immediately recognised the culprit.

“Rose! What the fuck!?” he snapped, angry, protective feelings surging through him at his best friend’s forlorn expression. His face stung from the cold and wet; despite this, he threw her his harshest, most outraged glare.

“It was an accident! I was aiming for Jasper, but he ducked—and, well—then it was too late to stop it, so…” She trailed off as Albus continued to glare. Scorpius’ whimpers in the background only fuelled his rage. Rose stiffened and folded her arms across her chest, sticking her nose in the air. She looked so much like her mum in that moment that Albus almost quailed. “In my defence,” she said, “I had no idea you guys were here. Why couldn’t you go play in the snow by the Quidditch pitch like the rest of the school?”

Icy snow-melt dribbled from Albus’ sodden hat and down his neck He tugged it off his head and scrunched the useless thing in his fist. “Why couldn’t you just watch where you throw shit,” he retorted.

“Oh, for crying out loud, it’s only snow! Get over it, Albus,” said Rose.

“Rose! How lovely to see you,” Scorpius said weakly, having given up on repairing his snowman while Albus and Rose were facing off against each other.

Albus turned his glare on his best friend. Scorpius’ fascination-slash-crush-slash-creepy obsession with Rose had tailed off since their early years at Hogwarts, but he still had a weird soft spot when it came to her. Most of the time, it was funny to watch—if slightly uncomfortable—but at times like these, when Scorpius had a legitimate reason to be pissed off, it was just plain annoying.

“So sorry, Scorpius,” Rose apologized, reaching out to place a sympathetic hand on his arm. Albus bristled. “I know a spell that should fix it right up—I can show you, if you like?”

“Don’t worry about it. It’s fine. We were doing it the muggle way, so it would be cheating to use a spell.” With a frown, Scorpius glanced back at his decapitated snowman.

Albus’ heart clenched at the sight of Scorpius’ dejected face. “I don’t mind,” he said. “Let Rose fix it—it’s not your fault she fucked it up.” He hissed when Rose punched him, hard, in the shoulder.

“Twat. I’d offer to fix yours, too, but it looks beyond help,” she snapped.

“No, no, it’s okay. I’m getting a bit cold now anyway, and I expect Al is eager to get indoors,” Scorpius said, smiling faintly. He turned away from them and wandered towards the school without a backward glance.

“Nice one, Rose,” Albus spat once Scorpius was out of earshot.

“Oh, piss off. It’s not like I did it on purpose.”

“Yeah? Where is Jasper, exactly? Funny how he’s nowhere to be seen.”

“He ran off when he saw your face,” she retorted, poking out her tongue in the childish way she always did when they argued, although something in her tone suggested she wasn’t being completely honest. “What are you even doing out here? You hate this stuff.”

“Mind your own business,” he growled, well and truly fed up now. His face hurt, his fingers and toes were numb, and his feet were wet. Why had he ever let Scorpius convince him to come outside when he could have been _inside_ , dry and warm, with a good book or his sketch pad?

He turned and followed Scorpius’ tracks, leaving Rose to fume behind him.

Albus expected he would be receiving an owl from his mum or dad—maybe even Auntie Hermione, if he was really lucky—in the not too distant future suggesting he and Rose ‘talk things out’ or some rubbish like that. They hadn’t always been so at odds—in fact, they’d been quite close growing up—but recently their differences seemed to be magnified, and it was harder and harder to find common ground. Of course, the blame for this, every time Rose wrote home and told on him (or gossipped to Lily or Hugo or any of their other cousins, who then wrote home and told on him instead) always seemed to land squarely on his shoulders. Apparently, he was supposed to ‘ _cheer up_ ’ and ‘ _try harder to be friendly._ ’ That Scorpius was often on her side, too, was an added kick in the gut.

“Scorp! Scorpius! Wait up!” Albus called as he drew nearer to his friend, walking as fast as he could through the snow drifts. “Hi,” he said breathlessly once he’d caught up. Scorpius’ bright green woolly hat was almost completely white from the snow, which still hadn’t let up.

Scorpius glanced at him out of the corner of his eye and sighed, slowing down his pace. “I’m sorry, Al. I suppose this wasn’t a great example of snow-fun.”

“Hey, it wasn’t your fault. Rose is the one who ruined everything.”

“Yes, but it was an accident, and she apologised. Is she cross at me?”

“What? Why?”

“I thought I might have been a bit short with her, and I stormed off in a huff.”

“This was you storming off in a huff?” Albus couldn’t help the laughter that bubbled up in his throat.

“Oh, hush. _Yes,_ that was me storming off. What are you saying?”

“Aww, Scorp. You couldn’t storm off if your life depended on it. You’re literally, like, the nicest person on the planet. And don’t worry about Rose. If she’s mad at anyone, it’s me. I’m who the snowball was meant for.”

“No! Really? Are you sure? Did she say that?”

“Of course not, but I’ve known her my whole life. I know when she’s pretending she didn’t intentionally throw something at my head.”

“I’m sure she didn’t mean anything by it,” Scorpius replied diplomatically, and Albus had to stop himself rolling his eyes at Scorpius’ unending ability to give everyone the benefit of the doubt.

“Well, I guess at least we’ve proved that snow is shit,” Albus said, eager to steer the conversation away from Rose before Scorpius could talk about how perfectly wonderful she was.

“Not in the slightest! I’m nowhere near giving up yet. Now, come on,” he said, looping an arm through Albus’, “let’s get you warm and dry and huddled in front of the fire with a hot chocolate and a classic _Martin Miggs_ comic.”

Albus shook his head and laughed—it was hard not to when faced with such boundless enthusiasm and unconditional friendship. He truly would be lost without Scorpius, even if he did get weirdly fixated on the strangest things and always ended up dragging Albus along with his madness.


	2. Chapter 2

As he lay in bed the next morning, deliciously warm under his blankets, Albus could almost believe that the previous day had been an awful nightmare. Not that the _whole_ afternoon had been terrible—the way Scorpius had fussed around him and made sure he was warm enough once they got back inside was actually quite pleasant—but the argument with Rose had coloured everything with a dull layer of irritation.

Why did she always have to ruin everything? It seemed to be happening more and more lately, too. Anytime he and Scorpius hung out, just the two of them, along she came—and then it was like they both forgot Albus existed.

He wasn’t stupid; he’d obviously known this would happen one day. He and Scorpius couldn’t live in each other’s pockets forever. They would eventually meet significant others and spend more time apart, but out of everyone in the school—in the world, even—why did Scorpius have to be interested in _Rose_?

Albus hated being a third wheel. He missed the days when they would hang out together as a trio, and he would, perhaps naively, fantasise about them being the ‘Harry, Ron, and Hermione’ of their generation—only with less peril (although this was before he realised his Dad was the most annoying person on the planet).

He heaved a weary sigh and glanced at the window beside his bed. He couldn’t see anything other than the murky stillness of the lake though. Even the weeds visible beyond the window were motionless when usually they danced and swayed with the motion of the water. With any luck, he’d discover that the snow had melted overnight, and they could forget this whole debacle. Or maybe he could convince Scorpius to stay in the common room and play gobstones or chess; it had been at least a week since their last chess battle, after all.

But of course, Scorpius wasn’t to be put off that easily. Albus did his best to distract him and tried to delay their leaving of the common room for as long as possible; hoping that if Scorpius couldn’t see the snow, then it might not exist.

However, with each Slytherin that returned from breakfast talking about the ‘winter wonderland’ outside, Scorpius’ excitement grew—and Albus’ hope for a quiet day indoors faded. His worst fears were realised when Scorpius literally dragged him from the dungeons to the Great Hall for a late Sunday breakfast, complaining loudly that he was ‘ _about to expire from lack of sustenance._ ’ On the way, he made them stop at every window to admire the scenery. Okay, so the view was pretty, but considering how Scorpius had insisted that he was near death, Albus thought it was a tad excessive.

“I know yesterday didn’t exactly go as planned, but you can’t give up at the first hurdle,” Scorpius said once they were sat at the Slytherin table. As usual, his friend carefully browsed the breakfast items laid out before them, even though the selection rarely, if ever, changed. It was such a ‘Scorpius’ thing to do that despite his dark mood, Albus smiled. A quick glance up was all it took to remind him of it, though; the huge, vaulted ceiling was so thick with falling snow, the floating candles were barely visible.

“I can, if that hurdle is made of snow,” Albus grumbled. The excited chatter of the students still eating breakfast soured his mood further. Even the teachers at the head table seemed more lighthearted than usual. Was he the only person in the school with an ounce of sense left? With a heavy hand, he scraped his butter-laden knife across his toast and then swore as the knife gouged chunks out of the surface, leaving him with a mangled, barely edible, soggy square.

“Here, you clumsy erumpent,” Scorpius tutted after watching him struggle. He passed over a perfectly buttered slice of toast and grabbed another piece from the rack for himself. “As I was saying, _you_ may want to give up, but _I_ refuse to give up on you. So, I thought today we might try something a little different.”

“You’re the one that got hit in the face with a giant snowball yesterday—are you sure you want to risk going outside again?” Albus asked hopefully.

“It was an accident and an occupational risk of snow enjoyment. I’m completely over it,” he replied, waving his butter-coated knife in dismissal. “Anyway, I thought we might take it easy and just go for a walk, maybe see what everyone else is up to. It’ll be fun!”

Albus pursed his lips but didn’t reply immediately as he considered the pros and cons of Scorpius’ proposal. A walk didn’t sound too bad, he supposed. A bit pointless, perhaps, but low-effort; and if they managed to avoid other people and distractions then there was even a chance he could be back inside by lunchtime...

“Okay. I guess that doesn’t sound too terrible,” he said eventually.

Scorpius’ face lit up. “Yes! I’m going to make it so good for you! You won’t regret this,” he cried, slinging an arm around Albus’ shoulders and hugging him into his side.

Albus grinned and ducked his head to hide his blush from the rest of the hall. Scorpius’ words sent his thoughts racing to some very strange places before he reined them in. He honestly had no idea how Scorpius was able to turn his head to mulch with little more than a delighted grin and a few innocuous comments, but it was happening a lot lately. It must be stress or lack of sleep or something. He shook himself and forced his brain to focus on the present. For some reason, Scorpius seemed to enjoy his company, and so Albus took a moment to bask in the warmth of being able to inspire such joy in his friend. It made suffering through things like a walk in the snow totally worth it.

“Hi, guys!” Rose said brightly as she slipped into the space beside Scorpius, sitting much closer than necessary. “What’re you up to?”

Albus bristled when Scorpius jerked away from him, dropping his arm from Albus’ shoulders. _Of course_ Rose would come along to wreck things.

“Hi Rose,” Scorpius beamed.

Albus grunted out a ‘hello’ and pretended to be heavily invested in his breakfast. He didn’t need to watch Scorpius awkwardly flirting with his cousin; it was bad enough having to hear it.

“Al and I were going to take a walk around the grounds, maybe make some snow angels,” Scorpius continued. Albus frowned. He didn’t remember agreeing to snow angels.

“Ugh, you guys are so old and married,” she scoffed.

“Er, what!?” Scorpius spluttered. Albus’ scowl deepened. Stupid Rose. Why would she say something like that?

“Pffft, nevermind. Anyway, a few of the seventh years are trying to organise a school-wide snowball battle so I’m on the recruitment path—you guys should totally get involved for Slytherin! It’ll be an epic battle between the houses, and Gryffindor is going to slay everyone!”

Scorpius spun around and looked at Albus, his grey eyes wide and hopeful. In his peripheral vision, Rose made a similar expression as she leaned over the table to peer around Scorpius. What was he, their keeper? If they wanted to play snow-flirting, he wasn’t going to stand in their way, but if they thought he was going to stand around freezing his bollocks off in the snow and watch them make idiots of themselves, they’d be sorely mistaken.

“Do what you like—I don’t care,” he shrugged, hoping he sounded more disinterested than pissed off.

Scorpius pouted, wrapping his long, slender fingers around Albus’ upper arm. “Albuuuus! Please! I need you! We’re a team!”

Albus shivered at his words. The rest of the hall faded into the background until it was just him and Scorpius. His weight pressed against Albus’ side as he hung off his arm, his face so close that Albus could make out the almost invisible scattering of freckles across his nose and cheeks—could feel the ghost of Scorpius’ breath on his lips.

“Okay,” Albus replied, his voice cracking and sounding much lower and gruffer to his ears than he expected. He cleared his throat and tried again. “Okay, yeah. Fine.”

A broad grin broke out on Scorpius’ face, and he pulled away with a ‘whoop’ that was far too enthusiastic for a Sunday morning.

“Wow, seriously Scorpius, you’re like the Albus-whisperer. How did you get him to agree? I thought for sure I’d have to play the ‘familial obligation’ card,” Rose commented. And just like that, the spell was broken; the sounds of the Great Hall rushed back to fill the void.

Albus scowled, willing the blood away from his face before Rose or Scorpius noticed.

“Let’s get this over with then,” he grumbled, pushing up from the table and pointedly ignoring the excited chatter of his friends as they followed him out of the hall.

 

* * *

 

Albus huddled with Scorpius at the edge of the large crowd of Slytherins. They had gathered to take part in the ‘ _battle of the century_ ’, as the snowball fight had been rather insensitively named. A few people even joked about drawing a scar on Albus’ forehead, but a well-placed Bat-Bogey Hex had put a stop to that for the time being.

Once the prefects of each house had gotten on board with the idea of a mass snowball fight, the idea had...snowballed, and now it seemed as though the whole school was involved. The other houses gathered, forming three large, dark masses more or less equidistant from each other. From what he could tell through the limited attention he had paid to his prefects when they’d explained the rules, this was to be a giant, four-way game of Capture the Flag, except with icy projectiles. His enthusiasm for the entire venture—which admittedly hadn’t been that high in the first place—dwindled with each passing second. However, one quick glance at Scorpius’ excited puppy face was enough to prevent him from abandoning the whole ridiculous thing and seeking a warmer activity to fill his time.

The Slytherin prefects spent at least half an hour detailing a battle strategy to their gathered house mates, but as soon as the flares went up from each house to signal they were ready, it was a free-for-all. He was struck with the sudden urge to make a dash for the castle, making the most of the confusion, but before he could escape, Scorpius grabbed his hand and dragged him into the fray.

“This is so much fun!” shrieked Scorpius as they ducked behind a shrub, having miraculously avoided any snow to the face in the opening minutes of battle. Snowballs of all sizes filled the air. Some were propelled the Muggle way, but a fair few were far too large and accurate to be flying without magical assistance. Several jinxes flew through the air too, despite this being against the ‘official’ rules of the impromptu game.

Albus smiled in agreement—if Scorpius noticed it didn’t reach his eyes, he didn’t say anything. After a few minutes of hiding (or biding their time, as Scorpius called it), Albus’ calves burned from his crouched position. He wanted to stand up and stretch his legs, but as this wasn’t an option, he shifted from his uncomfortable position and grumbled instead. They were sheltered from most of the action in their current spot, and he didn’t want to blow it for them by standing up. With any luck, they would avoid getting caught by any stray jinxes or snowballs before the game was over. He’d already witnessed Gryffindor snatch a Hufflepuff pennant from their base, so surely it had to be over soon.

A noise—which sounded like a muffled explosion followed by a pained cry—came from somewhere close by. Albus exchanged a worried look with Scorpius before they both peeked around the shrub

“I think that first year is hurt,” Scorpius hissed. “Wait here, I’m going to check if they’re okay.”

“What? No!” Albus yelped, making a grab for Scorpius’ trailing robes as he dashed into the field. “It’s probably a trap, let’s just—Scorpius!”

Albus watched helplessly as Scorpius approached the bundle of robes in a crouching run. He wanted to chase after him and tackle him to the ground, or incapacitate him with a Body Bind or something; _anything_ to keep him from running headfirst into what was _obviously_ a trap. He couldn’t move though, and in that moment, he hated himself. He was the only Potter who crumbled in the face of danger, rather than rising to the challenge. Scorpius was going to get hurt or captured and all he could do was huddle behind a bush like a coward.

Scorpius was almost upon the bundle of robes when Albus caught a flash of movement off to the side. He opened his mouth to yell a warning but before he could make a sound, Scorpius was hit by a Jelly-Legs jinx. He pitched forward into the snow, arms flailing wildly, and three Gryffindors appeared, whooping and jeering at their victim. They grabbed Scorpius and half-dragged, half-carried him off while Albus remained hidden.

“Shit,” Albus muttered. He was torn between performing a heroic rescue and continuing to cower in the safety of his hideout. He knew Scorpius was safe, so there was no actual _need_ to run after him—but he’d been so excited about playing the game, and now he was going to be stuck in some snow-jail somewhere, probably sad to be missing out...

“Wait! You forgot something!” Albus yelled, stepping out from his hiding place with his arms held up in surrender.

Scorpius gasped, the sound audible even over the noise of the battle. “Albus! No! Run! Save yourself!” he cried.

Albus braced for the expected Jelly-Legs Jinx, but it still took him by surprise. He toppled forwards and narrowly avoided getting a mouthful of snow. He only hoped Scorpius would appreciate his sacrifice.

 

* * *

 

“You could have escaped!” Scorpius berated for what felt like the hundredth time—as if Albus would have done anything remotely beneficial to the war effort with his freedom.

They’d been in snow-jail for what felt like hours now; long enough that Albus had given up trying to keep his arse frost-free and sat in the snow beside Scorpius.

They were trapped inside what could only be described as a high-walled, square-ish pen, constructed entirely of snow and completely open to the elements. There was a narrow gap in one wall, guarded by a thickset boy who was more eyebrow than face, but that was the only way in or out, other than over or through a wall. Scorpius had spent quite a while trying to argue his way out, but Eyebrows proved resistant to his charms and so eventually, he’d settled down and accepted his fate. Every so often, their cackling jailer shoved another student through the gap, but no one had yet been allowed out or freed by their friends. There were over ten of them in the makeshift cell now, and it was starting to get a bit cosy.

“I thought I was creating a distraction so you could escape,” Albus reasoned, shrugging. He scraped some snow into a small heap, then flattened it with his feet, repeating the action over and over to avoid meeting Scorpius’ glare.

“Nice try. You don’t really expect me to believe that, do you?” Scorpius snapped.

“Whatever. I don’t know why you’re so mad. At least in snow-jail, we’re safe.”

“But I didn’t want to be safe! I wanted to be out there! Doing something useful!”

“Then you shouldn’t have run headfirst into an obvious trap! For fuck’s sake, Scorp,” he yelled, throwing a handful of snow at Scorpius’ face.

Scorpius spluttered as he spat the snow out of his mouth and glared at Albus. “I clearly didn’t know it was a trap!”

“Oh. My. GOD. Can you two shut up for, like, five minutes? It’s like being stuck in a room with my parents before they divorced,” said a Ravenclaw boy sat on Albus’ left.

There were several other muttered agreements from the other prisoners, and even Eyebrows the guard sniggered into his scarf.

Scorpius looked mortified. “Apologies,” he said before turning to Albus and hissing, “Why do people keep calling us a married couple?”

Albus rolled his eyes and shrugged. He folded his legs against his chest, pressing his forehead to his knees. Scorpius shuffled closer until their shoulders touched; a wordless apology.

“I’m sorry I ruined our second day of snow fun,” Scorpius whispered after a few minutes, placing his head on Albus’ shoulder. Albus tilted his head and smoothed his cheek against Scorpius’ hair, silently marvelling at the softness as the fine hairs brushed against his skin.

“Don’t worry about it, Scorp. Really. At least in here, we’re not getting pelted with snowballs.”

Scorpius sighed. “I know...but…I really wanted to show you how much fun snow is, and both days I’ve messed it up. Maybe you were right; maybe snow _is_ rubbish.”

Albus was tempted to take the win, but it felt like a hollow victory with Scorpius looking so dejected. He nudged his elbow into Scorpius’ side. “Hey, what happened to not giving up on me? If anyone can make me love this god-awful stuff, it’s you.”

“Thanks, Al,” Scorpius said with a quiet chuckle.

They sat in comfortable silence, resting against each other and taking turns to renew the warming charm until a chorus of cheers told them that Gryffindor had _finally_ won (to absolutely no one’s surprise), and they were unceremoniously freed.

 

* * *

 

Later that night, once they had thawed out their frozen bodies under hot showers, Scorpius’ dad (who also happened to be their head of house) surprised everyone by providing hot chocolate and mountains of cauldron cakes, treacle tarts, and carrot cake.

The common room was heaving—everyone exhausted but happy—so Scorpius and Albus were squashed into one armchair together. Albus watched as a famished Scorpius demolished a large slice of carrot cake. He looked so much younger with his pale blond hair fluffy and unbrushed, his cheeks still pink and wind-burnt, and the collar of his kitten-patterned pyjamas visible beneath a sensible dressing gown. He must have felt Albus’ eyes on him. He returned the smile, but his eyebrows drew together in faint confusion.

“What?” Scorpius asked, swiping at his mouth with a napkin to dislodge some imaginary crumbs.

“Ah, nothing...you’ve just...got a little icing…” he indicated vaguely at the left-hand side of Scorpius’ face, “...yeah, there. Got it,” Albus mumbled after Scorpius had scrubbed at his face.

“Thanks, Al. Merlin, that would have been embarrassing. What would I do without you?” he said, smiling gratefully.

Albus opened his mouth to reply with something self-deprecating or sarcastic, but then Scorpius parted his lips and proceeded to suck the icing off his fingers one by one, and Albus’ brain juddered to a halt. He could only stare dumbly as each slender finger left Scorpius’ pink lips with a pop; the noise travelling straight to his groin.

His chest tightened; it suddenly felt like there was no air left in the room. He was acutely aware of every single point of contact with Scorpius where they sat pressed together in a suffocatingly small armchair—the way he leant back into the arm Albus had draped along the back of the chair for lack of any other place to put it; how his thigh rested heavily atop Albus’ because Scorpius was incapable of sitting without folding one leg under the other; the subtle way Scorpius turned his body toward his, effectively shutting people out of their conversation. Albus could only stare into the fire, trying to remember how to breathe normally while Scorpius twittered on about something or other, unaware of Albus’ discomfort.

What the _fuck_ was that about?


	3. Chapter 3

Lessons started up again on Monday. For once, Albus was relieved at the heavy workload as it gave him an excuse to hide away in the library or common room and meant there was little time to indulge Scorpius’ snow obsession. It even stopped snowing for long enough that Albus harboured a tiny glimmer of hope that it would be mostly melted by the weekend. Unfortunately, the temperature dropped substantially on Thursday, and by Friday, the grounds were once again knee-deep in snow.

When Albus eventually dragged himself out of bed on Saturday morning, he was surprised to find Scorpius’ bed already empty and made. After a quick check of the toilets, he stumbled down to the common room still in his pyjamas to see if his friend was there, perhaps catching up on homework. Instead, he found a crowd of over-excited Slytherins jostling each other by the noticeboard in the corner. 

He was about to turn around and head straight back to bed, not wanting any part in whatever the fuss was about—if it was important, he’d find out one way or another—when he spotted Scorpius’ platinum-blond hair front and centre of the crowd. He hung back, deciding to wait for his best friend to tell him the news, rather than fight through the crowd himself or head back to bed. He couldn’t deny he was curious, but he was fairly certain he wouldn’t be happy with whatever ever it was. He had a tendency to dislike things other people got excited about.

The crowd dispersed after only a few minutes, and Albus managed to catch Scorpius’ attention before he darted upstairs.

“ICE SKATING!” Scorpius yelled in his face, gripping his shoulders and shaking him violently.

Albus’ heart sank and his expectant smile morphed into something of a grimace; it was immediately obvious what Scorpius had decided they’d be doing today. Images flashed through his mind—hanging onto Mum for dear life while his siblings and cousins zipped around him on the ice; James dragging him into the centre of a frozen lake and howling with laughter as he tried to get back to shore; Rose using him for target practice when they played Muggle hockey.

“What?” he asked, vainly hoping he’d somehow misunderstood.

“Ice skating! Professor Longbottom says the lake is safe for ice skating today! Isn’t that fantastic?!” beamed Scorpius.

“Yeah... _ fantastic _ . That’s exactly the word I would use,” Albus deadpanned, wincing slightly at Scorpius’ crestfallen expression—but what did he expect? Albus had been more than clear on where he stood with the whole ‘going outside in the snow’ issue.

“I thought maybe because it was ice—and not snow—you’d be happy,” he pouted, and Albus swore he visibly wilted as the excitement drained out of him. “Rose said you used to skate all the time when you were younger, so I thought you’d be excited,” Scorpius murmured.

Albus felt like someone had put his chest in a vice. He couldn’t cope with Scorpius’ dejected face; he looked like a child who’d been told Christmas was cancelled forever.

“Er, yeah, we did, but that doesn’t mean I liked it. My family used to force me to go.” Did Rose not remember how much he protested every single time his parents dragged him onto the ice? Of course, she was probably too busy tearing around with Teddy, James, Lily, Hugo, and the rest to notice his resistance.

“Oh...well, I suppose we could do something else...Maybe we could build another snowman?” Scorpius gave him a small, sad smile then turned to leave the common room. 

Albus wanted to kick himself. Not for the first time, he questioned why Scorpius even bothered to be friends with him since it felt like all he did was shit all over Scorpius’ good mood. Guilt clawed at his insides. He needed to fix this—needed to make Scorpius happy again.

Trotting to catch up, Albus followed his friend up to their dormitory.

“Scorp, wait. I never… _ hated _ it exactly,” he lied. ”It’s just...it’s not that easy, and I don’t want you to hurt yourself. Have you ever even skated before?”

When Albus entered the room, Scorpius was already rifling through his wardrobe. He poked his head around the wardrobe door, face bright with hope. “You’re worried about me? Why didn’t you say sooner! You sound just like Father. The lake by our property in France freezes over every winter, but you know what he’s like. He’s so convinced I’ll injure myself that he’s never let me try it.” Scorpius tutted and rolled his eyes, but his tone was affectionate, as it always was when he spoke about his father. He moved to the middle of the room, hands full of knitwear as he faced Albus. “But seriously, how hard can it be? I’m sure it’ll be fine; and anyway, you’ll be there to help me, so there’s nothing to worry about!” 

Albus grimaced. Just what lies had Rose been telling Scorpius about his abilities? He scrabbled around for an excuse— _ any _ excuse—to avoid getting on the ice.

“Oh! But what about your Dad? Won’t he be annoyed?”

“I’m sixteen! He can’t keep holding me back from my dreams!” Scorpius exclaimed. He separated a hat from the bundle in his hands and jammed it down on Albus’ head. “And besides, when have you ever known him to venture into the grounds on a weekend? By the time he finds out, I’ll already be back in the Slytherin dungeons.”

Albus stood helpless as Scorpius wrapped a scarf around his neck. “I suppose…But…oh, no...well, we don’t have any ice skates, do we? What a shame.”

“Not to worry,” Scorpius said, grabbing Albus’ winter cloak from the hook behind the door. “Professor Longbottom said several staff members would be on hand to transfigure our shoes into ice skates if we don’t have any of our own! Isn’t that great?” He held out the cloak, shaking it impatiently, and Albus stepped into it without thinking. 

“Great, yeah. Fucking... _ great _ . He really thought of everything.” Albus made a mental note to ‘ _ forget _ ’ to buy his godfather a Christmas present this year.

“Come on Al, the sooner we get done with breakfast, the sooner we can get on the ice! Oh Merlin, I’m so excited! I’ve wanted to go ice skating FOREVER!”

Albus sighed but didn’t resist when Scorpius shooed him out of their room, shoving a pair of gloves into his hand. Scorpius clearly didn’t intend for them to return to the dorm before heading outside. 

On the walk to the Great Hall, Albus couldn’t help but smile as Scorpius chatted a mile a minute about all the fun they were going to have—his enthusiasm was catching.  _ Maybe _ the day wouldn’t be completely terrible.

 

* * *

 

The frozen lake was almost indistinguishable from the surrounding snow-covered slopes. In all his time at Hogwarts, Albus had never seen ice completely cover its wide expanse, and he briefly worried that the giant squid might be cold...but this thought was quickly replaced by a mental image of the giant squid bursting through the ice and dragging all the skaters to their deaths…which was not something he wanted to think about before setting foot on the ice himself… 

Beside him—and completely oblivious to his fears about the squid—Scorpius was practically quivering with excitement as he watched skaters glide across the ice. It was fairly crowded already, even though it was still quite early, but Albus supposed that more people shared Scorpius’ view rather than his own.

After they’d gotten their winter boots transfigured into skates and been reminded about cushioning charms, Scorpius and Albus tottered down to the ice. Scorpius fretted about the damage the transfiguration would do to the leather of his favourite boots, and Albus took comfort in the thought they probably wouldn’t be outside for very long if Scorpius was already having regrets. His friend was also the least coordinated person he’d ever met, especially since his growth spurt over the summer, so the chances of him giving up fairly soon were high.

Albus gingerly placed a skate on the ice, making use of a conveniently located overhanging branch for support as he edged further away from the shore. He looked over his shoulder to see Scorpius watching him attentively. 

He pushed off and...didn’t fall. He was still upright! He continued forwards, getting used to the feel of the boots and the ice, and while it wasn’t the most graceful motion across the ice, he didn’t wipe out. 

“Wow! Brilliant! You look amazing!” Scorpius cried from the shore, jumping up and down and clapping his hands. Albus blushed at the praise, thankful that most of his face was hidden by his scarf.

“Are you coming?” He shouted back, starting to feel a bit more confident about his abilities.

“Yes, yes. Just a minute!” 

Scorpius followed the path Albus had taken moments before. He gripped onto the branch with both hands as his feet skidded out from beneath him, pointing in separate directions. He looked like a newborn giraffe—all gangly limbs and knees. Albus hurriedly searched his brain for all the tips his mum had given him as he glided towards Scorpius.

“Okay, just…just stop flailing for a second.”

“Don’t you think I would if I could!?” Scorpius cried. “I’m not doing it on purpose!” 

“Sorry, sorry. Look, it’s harder if you hold on like that—you need to drop your centre of gravity and try to keep your weight over your skates, or slightly forward. Like this—see?” Albus demonstrated what he meant, still amazed at how all this repressed ice skating knowledge was flooding back to him.

“Easy for you to say,” Scorpius grumbled. He loosened his grip on the branch but hugged it tightly the second his feet began to slip again.

“Hey, don’t get shitty with me. This was your idea, remember? I wanted to stay inside!” 

“Yes, but you didn’t tell me it was hard!” Scorpius whined, looking for a moment like he was going to stamp his foot petulantly before he thought better of it.

“I said it wasn’t easy! What the hell did you think I meant?”

“I thought you’d help me! Why are you not helping me?” Scorpius wailed. Albus would have found his distressed tantrum amusing if it hadn’t been directed at him. He itched to get out on the ice properly to see just how much he remembered, but he didn’t want to abandon Scorpius.

“I’m trying!” Albus yelled back, before taking a deep breath to calm himself. Shouting at Scorpius for sucking at something he’d never done before wasn’t his proudest moment. “Do you want to sack it off? I won’t think less of you for giving up.”

“No! I. Can.  _ Do _ . This,” Scorpius ground out, setting his jaw determinedly. “It seriously cannot be this difficult to skid about on a bit of frozen water. Look at them, they’re doing it fine,” he said gesturing with his head.

Albus looked where he indicated and saw Rose racing around with her friends. He spotted Lily and Hugo, too, chasing each other around the ice as comfortably as if they were running on grass. 

“Come here then, hold onto my arm. Let’s do this!” Albus drew as close as he dared and reached an arm out. He wasn’t really sure what this was going to accomplish. He still felt a little unsteady on his feet, but compared to Scorpius, he was a world class ice skater. Perhaps they could support each other, and their incompetence would be cancelled out.

Before Scorpius could take hold of him, though, Rose drew up with a friend, showering them both with ice as she skidded to a halt.

“Hi guys, need a hand?” she asked with a smirk that suggested she’d already witnessed at least part of the drama of getting Scorpius on the ice.

“We’re fi—” Albus started, only to be cut off by Scorpius.

“Hi Rose, Mabel! You two looked amazing on the ice—how on Earth do you do it? I feel like a hippogriff with four left feet!” 

“First time?” Rose asked kindly, drawing closer.

“Is it that obvious?” Scorpius chuckled.

“Don’t worry! It’s tricky at first, but you’ll soon get the hang of it,” said Rose. “Here, take my hand...yep, yep. Now slowly, slowly...there you go. Right, take Mabel’s hand with your other, and we’ll take you for a spin!”

“Oh my…Thank you so much!” Scorpius beamed. He still looked like he was moments from face-planting on the ice but remained upright for the time being. “I think that one over there was starting to get a tad annoyed with me,” he added in a stage whisper, almost losing balance when he nodded towards where Albus stood, scowling.

“Yes, well, he’s not exactly known for his even temper,” Rose taunted, topped with an eye roll that nearly had Albus reaching for his wand. “You coming, Al?” she called back.

He contemplated it; but in the end, he thought he’d rather skewer his own eyeballs than spend the day watching Scorpius flirt badly with Rose and Mabel, so he made his excuses. “Nah. You two look like you got this covered. I’ll just…” he gestured to the ice, and thankfully no more pressing questions were asked.

Rose and Mabel skated away with a cheery ‘ _ bye _ ’ and a ‘ _ don’t slip over and die! _ ’ with Scorpius wedged between them. Albus watched until they disappeared into the crowd. 

He only realised his jaw was clenched once it started to ache. He didn’t want to come out here in the first place, but now he had the perfect excuse to head back to the common room, he couldn’t quite bring himself to leave the ice. Someone had to keep an eye on Scorpius, after all, in case he got hurt, and he didn’t trust a rowdy bunch of Gryffindors to be much help. 

It was irritating how quickly Scorpius had ditched him to chase a bit of skirt. What did Rose and Mabel have that Albus didn’t? It was supposed to be  _ him _ teaching Scorpius to skate, not Rose, and certainly not  _ Mabel _ —who even was she?

Scorpius was  _ his _ best friend—not Rose’s, Albus thought bitterly. Why was she always trying to steal him? And why was he letting himself get stolen? He’d barely spared Albus a backward glance before abandoning him for those girls. Something hot and heavy curdled in his gut—anger and frustration. Tears burned in his eyes, so he pushed away from the edge of the lake and skated as hard and fast as he could to outrun his emotions. 

He kept Scorpius within sight as he skated across the surface of the lake. Scorpius may have decided he didn’t need Albus anymore, but Albus wasn’t ready to let him go. He wanted to be ready when Rose and her friends got bored and stranded him in the middle of the lake. After half an hour though, they showed no signs of stopping. The squirming mass of jealousy in Albus’ gut grew too much to bear. 

As Albus watched, Scorpius fell laughing into Mabel’s arms—seriously, who  _ was _ she?—and it was the final straw. He fled the ice before the tingling in his arms could coalesce into a burst of accidental magic that melted the lake and dunked the lot of them.

 

* * *

 

Albus lost track of time once he got back to his room; easy to do when there was no natural light. One of his dorm mates—a smug twat called Ralph who Albus had never got on with—popped in at one point to grab something from his trunk and enquired where Scorpius was, but he disappeared rather rapidly after Albus told him to fuck off. 

Aside from that, though, Albus had no other human interaction after coming inside from the lake, which was absolutely fine with him. All he wanted to do was hide in his bed and read without any distractions. He didn’t need Scorpius, or anyone else.

He focused on his book as he curled on the bed, but his thoughts once again strayed back to Scorpius. He couldn’t stop wondering what his friend was doing and if he’d even noticed Albus wasn’t there. Had he been skating this whole time, or had he gone off to suck face with Rose or Mabel or someone else? Albus shuddered at the thought, shaking his head to clear out the image of Scorpius and Rose kissing before it became too traumatic. 

No, romantic entanglements didn’t seem to be Scorpius’ thing—he was still fairly innocent in that regard as far as Albus knew. What if he’d been injured on the ice and was now lying in the infirmary? Someone would let him know if something bad had happened, wouldn’t they? 

Before he could get more wound up though, the dormitory door clicked open. Albus hunched further around his book, his back to the door, and said a silent prayer that whoever it was would go about their business quietly and leave him alone.

“There you are!” Scorpius exclaimed.

Great. Well, at least he remembered Albus was still alive. He rolled over to face his friend, scowl already primed on his face, but the angry noise he’d been about to make caught in his throat. 

Scorpius stood in the centre of the room, his face flushed from the cold, and his hair as messy as Albus had ever seen it—some strands darkened and plastered to his face with sweat, others sticking up in all directions. He was holding two steaming mugs of what smelt like hot chocolate, and the thick aroma of the sweet, creamy chocolate blended perfectly with the cold, outdoorsy smell that clung to Scorpius’ damp robes. He smelt like a perfect winter’s day and was simply radiant—a healthy glow from a day spent outdoors—and Albus couldn’t stop staring.

“Well, sit up then, these mugs are starting to burn my fingers,” Scorpius chided as he walked to the side of Albus’ bed.

Albus shot up and shuffled back to the headboard, and Scorpius sat cross-legged opposite him. He handed one of the hot chocolates to Albus, who gratefully accepted it. He hadn’t realised how hungry he was until he caught a whiff of the chocolate; that must be why his stomach was doing something strange and fluttery, making his skin feel tingly and over-sensitive.

“Have you been up here all day?” Scorpius asked. He took a sip of his drink, giving himself a chocolaty moustache, which he then cleaned up with a swipe of his tongue. Albus watched, transfixed. “Al?” 

Albus tore his eyes away and stared into his mug, his ears hot. “Um, maybe? I don’t know. It’s not that late, is it?” he mumbled.

“Depends what you call late,” Scorpius laughed. “It’s almost dinner time!”

“Really?” That would explain the hunger pangs, Albus thought. “But then, where’s everyone else?” He would have guessed it was early afternoon at the latest. Aside from Ralph, no one had come into the dorm, and they usually all stopped by to drop off bags or change before dinner.

“Well, according to Ralph, you’re in a bit of a strop so the others thought it best to give you a wide berth,” Scorpius replied with a smirk and an arched eyebrow that did nothing to help the foreign sensation in Albus’ gut.

Albus groaned and hid his face in his hands. “Ugh. I suppose I should apologise…” he said, voice muffled. He knew he had been a tad short with Ralph, but he didn’t actually want to apologise…If Scorpius wanted him to, though, then he’d do it.

“Hmmm, probably,” Scorpius chuckled. “We’ll see them later though, so no rush. It’s actually quite nice to have a bit of peace and quiet.”

Albus willed himself to relax. He had Scorpius back; he didn’t need to sulk anymore. Not that he had been sulking. “Yeah? So...ah...what have you been up to? Did you master the triple axel yet?” 

“Considering I have no idea what that is, I’ll have to go with a ‘no.’ It was so much fun, though. Why did you leave? I looked for you, but then someone said they saw you heading back to the castle.”

“Oh, um, I just got a bit cold. I was going to tell you I was heading back, but you looked like you were enjoying yourself so…I didn’t want to interrupt.” Albus fiddled with the hem of his trousers and avoided looking up. He didn’t want to piss Scorpius off by acting all weird and petty about him spending time with Rose and Mabel.

“Albus! You silly mare,” Scorpius cried, slapping Albus on the knee. “You should have told me you were going back. I missed you!”

“Yeah? Sorry. I just didn’t want to get in the way if you were...you know…” he trailed off unwilling to say the words out loud in case it made them true.

“Um, no? I  _ don’t _ know. What do you mean?” Scorpius’ face scrunched up in confusion.

Albus cursed. Was Scorpius actually going to make him say it?

“You…you looked like you were... _ enjoying _ ...yourself with Rose and...Mabel, was it? I didn’t want to cramp your style, you get me?” Albus cringed. Merlin, this was painful.

“I...maybe? You think I like one of them? … _ Romantically _ ?”

Albus took a deep breath. As he stared at a point over Scorpius’ shoulder, he forced himself to spit the words out. “Um, yeah. It’s fine, you know, if you want to go after Rose. I’m…I’m cool with it, so, whatever.”

Scorpius looked as if he had just been asked to drink a cup of wee. “Well, that’s...good to know...but I’m really not—”

The door opened before Scorpius could finish, and Albus had to stop himself from yelling at whoever it was to  _ fuck off _ . He really,  _ really _ wanted to know what Scorpius had been about to say. 

“Hey, is it safe to come in and get changed before dinner?” Ralph asked through the crack in the door.

Scorpius grinned, the previous conversation already forgotten. “Absolutely! In fact, Albus had something he wanted to say to you. Albus?”

“Oh for fuck’s sake…” 

Albus glared at his best friend but reluctantly apologised for being a mardy twat, before they all headed down to dinner together.


	4. Chapter 4

When Scorpius announced, with no small amount of glee, his latest idea for a ‘fun snow activity,’ Albus almost laughed in his face. He managed to restrain himself, settling instead for a look of disbelief.

“You think we should go sledging?” Albus asked carefully, hoping that he’d somehow misheard. “As in, sliding uncontrollably down an icy slope? Seriously?” 

“Yes! It’s so much fun, and there are some brilliant slopes around here. Mabel was telling me yesterday how—”

“No. Absolutely not. No way,” Albus declared, stopping Scorpius before he could go into any more detail.

Memories of winters past flooded his head; hoards of ginger cousins racing each other to the top of the nearest hill and hurtling down it at eye-watering speeds. There was always at least one broken arm and numerous black eyes and bloody noses. He couldn’t understand why they kept doing it. He’d never seen the appeal in purposefully putting himself in danger; James and Lily had obviously got all the ‘reckless endangerment of life’ Potter genes.

“Albuuuuus, come on!” Scorpius whined, his eyes wide and pleading. When Albus remained stoic, Scorpius stuck his bottom lip out, tilting his head down with a pitiful expression. Albus huffed and turned his gaze to his breakfast before Scorpius’ pouty face could wear down his resolve. He was staying firm on this; he refused to give in to Scorpius like he always did. 

“No! You’re acting like I’ve never done this before. I’m almost seventeen—I’ve been sledging before, so I know it’s shit! Nothing you can do or say will convince me otherwise,” he said, stabbing at a tomato to emphasise his point.

“You only think that because you haven’t done it properly,” Scorpius said, clearly not ready to back down. “I know you, Al, and I’m willing to bet my entire inheritance that you sulked in the background while your siblings and cousins had all the fun.”

“Shut up,” he growled, annoyed that Scorpius was able to read him so well.

“I’m right, aren’t I?” Scorpius smirked, looking far too pleased with himself. Albus’ scowl deepened.

“I didn’t stand around sulking. I just don’t like ‘enforced’ fun! Honestly, at the first sign of snow, Mum, Dad, Uncle Ron, Uncle George—the whole bloody lot of them—act like first years in Honeydukes. It’s embarrassing!”

Scorpius snorted and shook his head. “It’s a good job I like you. I swear you were born a grumpy old man.”

“Was not,” Albus mumbled, folding his arms across his chest and turning his head away from Scorpius.

“What are you? Five?” Scorpius shook his head in exasperation. “Look, you promised you’d try, remember? So to save us having this same argument over and over, let’s say you blanket-agree to try out any snow-based activities I suggest until the snow melts, and I’ll agree never hassle you about it again. Fair?”

“But what if it doesn’t melt for another month? It’s already been over a week! Bloody stuff feels like it’s gonna be around forever.”

“Then you’ll just have to try extra hard to enjoy yourself.”

They glared at each other, and Albus felt his resolve wavering. He summoned all his hate for the snow but found that it was no longer there—not to the same degree, anyway. He still wasn’t overly fond of it, but somewhere along the line, his brain had associated snow with Scorpius looking ridiculously happy and excited, and he could never truly hate anything that made Scorpius so happy.

He groaned, knowing that he’d live to regret it, but... “Fine. Whatever.”

“This is going to be. So. Much. FUN!” Scorpius shrieked, throwing his arms around Albus’ shoulders. He ducked his head to hide a stubborn smile and found he didn’t even mind the curious stares of other students. Making Scorpius happy was the only thing he cared about these days.

  
  


* * *

 

 

“Where’d you even get a sledge from at such short notice? Have you been carrying it around with you ‘just in case’?” Albus stared in disbelief at the old-fashioned, wooden sledge between them.

Scorpius had pulled it from his pocket and enlarged it as soon as they stepped outside.

“I owled Father yesterday to send it to me, and it arrived this morning,” he replied.

“Ah, so that’s what was in the package. I thought it was a naughty letter or something from a secret girlfriend,” Albus joked, even though at the time, he’d been quite hurt that Scorpius hadn’t let him see what was in the package.

“Ha! Where would I find the time for one of those? I spend pretty much every waking moment with you. Besides, I’ve only patience for one drama queen in my life, thanks,” he said with a smirk.

“Drama queen!?” Albus spluttered.

Scorpius lifted a hand to his chest and spoke in a high, warbling voice, “‘ _ Oh, Scorpius, this snow is so terrible _ ’, ‘ _ Oh, I’m so cold I might die _ ’, ‘ _ I think that Grindylow wants to kill me _ ’... Need I go on?”

“Hey! I don’t sound like that! And those are all valid concerns! ...Well, okay, maybe the last one isn’t. That Grindylow probably doesn’t want to  _ kill _ me, but you can’t tell me it isn’t plotting anything with the way it glares at me through our window.”

“It glares at everyone—that’s its normal, resting face! And  _ you’re _ the one who demanded to have the bed by the window so  _ you _ have to live with the consequences.”

“Ugh. Whatever. Let’s just get this over with so I can go back inside,” Albus grumbled, shoving his hands in his pockets. He’d give it a couple of tries, then hopefully Scorpius would let him off the hook, and he could head back indoors.

“You’re such a delight to be around,” Scorpius deadpanned. “Come on. I know the perfect spot.”

Albus reluctantly trailed behind Scorpius as he dragged the sledge towards the greenhouses, which Scorpius had deemed ‘the perfect sledging location’. 

Unfortunately, as they rounded the corner, it rapidly became apparent that half the school also had the same idea.

“Um, are you sure about this?” Albus asked, eyeing the crowded slope nervously. Not only did it look a lot steeper now that it was covered in snow, but there were people and sledges everywhere. At the risk of sounding like his Gran, he added: “It doesn’t look very safe…”

“It’ll be fun! The more the merrier, that’s what I always say,” Scorpius beamed.

“You literally never say that.”

“Oh, hush,” Scorpius pouted, thwacking Albus lightly on the shoulder. “Look—Connor, Hilda, and Suman are over there. Let’s go over by them; it doesn’t look as busy there.”

Albus huffed out an irritated breath, dampening the scarf that covered his mouth, and traipsed after his friend. The air was filled with shrieks and whoops as sledges rushed down the slope and friends cheered each other on, but he couldn’t summon any enthusiasm himself. If Scorpius hadn’t looked so excited, Albus would have turned around and gone back inside by now, but seeing his gleeful expression while he watched everyone was just enough motivation to keep going.

He was so busy scowling at everyone and everything around him that he didn’t notice the boisterous group of Gryffindors until he was almost in their midst. He probably would have walked right through the group had Scorpius not grabbed his sleeve and yanked him back. Albus swore under his breath as he caught his shin on the corner of the sledge. Looking up he noticed Rose laughing loudly at something Scorpius had said, and he tensed. The day just kept getting better and better.

“Didn’t expect to see you out and about again, Al. Was all your talk of hating snow just a front to get out of hanging out with us?” Rose asked.

Albus opened his mouth to snarl something he knew he’d probably end up regretting; Scorpius spoke up before he got a chance.

“He’s only out here to humour me, I’m afraid. Still very much a snow-hater. I’m working on him, though.” he said, turning to Albus with a soft smile. Albus snapped his mouth shut, his knees suddenly feeling weak. 

Rose glanced between them, eyes narrowed, and Albus could practically hear her brain working. He tempered the urge to squirm under her scrutiny. He could feel a blush creep across his skin and was thankful for the scarf across his face. He wasn’t sure what she thought was going on, but he could tell from the look in her eyes that he wouldn’t be happy about it. Just as soon as it had appeared, though, the suspicion dropped from her face, replaced with a look that Albus could only describe as pure evil.

“Wanna race? Gryffindor versus Slytherin?” She asked. Behind her, several Gryffindors showed interest in the conversation.

“Ah, I don’t think…” Scorpius started, looking nervously between Albus, Rose, and the growing number of Gryffindors surrounding them. “We were just going to do a couple of runs, then head back inside.”

“Aww, don’t be a baby. Come on. Worried you’ll get your arses kicked by Gryffindor again?” taunted a large boy—‘Eyebrows’ from the snow-jail.

“Um, well…we don’t…” 

“Not scared, are you, Scorpius?” said another boy next to Rose. Albus thought his name might be Gerald. Several others sniggered. They were surrounded now, and even Rose began to look uneasy with the direction things were headed.

“No...I just...well…” Scorpius stammered. He’d never been good with confrontation, which was probably why he was always so friendly and charming.

A wave of anger washed over Albus. How dare they do this to Scorpius? How dare they turn his excitement into nervousness and uncertainty? Most people didn’t care about the connotations associated with his family name at all—or if they did, they were polite enough not to mention anything—but enough still regarded him with suspicion that Scorpius often felt uncomfortable when faced with large groups. Especially groups of people intent on intimidating him. All too frequently, mob mentality took over.

Albus stepped beside Scorpius, close enough that their sleeves brushed together. “You’re on!” he shouted, glaring defiantly at Eyebrows and his friends, daring them to back out.

Scorpius whipped his head around and stared at Albus for a few moments, eyebrows drawn together in confusion. “No, no, Al, we don’t—Are you sure?—We could just—” he spluttered.

“Don’t worry Scorp, we can do this—they don’t stand a chance,” Albus said with much more confidence than he felt; but really, how hard could it be? It was just sliding down a hill. He raised his hand and placed it in what he hoped was a comforting manner on Scorpius’ bicep.

As they moved to a less crowded area for the race, Rose pulled them to one side.

“Hey, sorry about Gez and Barnaby. They’re good guys, normally, but they can be a bit competitive. I think they’re still mad at Slytherin for beating us in our last Quidditch match. You don’t have to race if you don’t want to.”

“It’s fine. We can do this, can’t we, Al?” Scorpius said. He looked confident, determined, although Albus could tell from the way he couldn’t keep still that he was nervous.

“Er, yeah. We’ve got this. No problem,” Albus said, uncertain who he was trying to reassure. He would much rather take the ‘out’ Rose had given them, but a small part of him also wanted to wipe the smug grin off Eyebrows’ face. And he wasn’t going to leave Scorpius to do it alone.

Rose looked dubious, but she didn’t seem quite as worried. “Okay, well, good luck then!” she said before joining her friends.

  
  


* * *

 

 

Albus tightened his hold of Scorpius and peered around his friend’s shoulder to look again at the line of trees—just visible through the falling snow—that marked the finish line. It looked awfully far away. 

He couldn’t quite believe he was really going through with this. What had possessed him to agree to a sledge race, of all things? 

Scorpius fidgeted in his seat, and Albus was reminded of just how close they were sitting. He had chosen the rear position of the sledge, because he didn’t want the responsibility of steering. but he regretted that decision now that he basically had a lap full of nervous, excited Scorpius. 

He’d tried to keep a respectable distance between them, but Scorpius had insisted it would be safer if they sat as close as possible, so now he had Scorpius’ arse nestled between his legs, and his arms were wrapped tightly around Scorpius’ chest. It didn’t feel bad—quite the opposite—but he didn’t feel ready to confront the abstract thoughts and feelings this closeness dredged up. It was just as well there were so many layers of clothing between them. He gritted his teeth and forced the wayward thoughts back where they belonged—in the dark recesses of his mind. 

“Could you try sitting still for two seconds?” Albus ground out through clenched teeth. 

“Sorry!” Scorpius replied, twisting his head around and offering Albus a faint smile. “It’s exciting though, right? I can’t believe you agreed to this! I thought for sure you’d flounce off in a strop when Rose challenged us.”

“Hey! I don’t ‘ _ flounce _ ’, and I only agreed because they all looked so smug. Then that one prick called you scared, like he just assumed you would chicken out or something.”

“Aww, Al, my knight in shining armour! You were protecting my honour!“

“Please, stop talking,” Albus groaned, ducking his head and knocking his forehead on Scorpius’ shoulder.

Scorpius sniggered, but then turned serious. “There’s still time to back out, you know. You don’t have to do this.”

“I know. It’s fine, really. Besides, we  _ have _ to destroy Gryffindor,” he said with a confidence he didn’t feel. 

“On your marks!” bellowed someone behind them. Albus startled and glanced over at the other racers—there were at least ten other sledges lined up along the top of the slope—catching Rose’s eye as she looked around. She grinned and blew him a kiss. His lip curled in disgust before he burrowed his face at Scorpius’ nape—no one said he had to  _ watch _ while they hurtled down the hill. He tightened his hold around Scorpius, wrapping his arms more securely around his chest and praying for swift death if it came for them.

“Get set!” The booming voice continued. Albus drew in a sharp breath and held it as he squeezed his eyes shut. He didn’t even care what he looked like. He was completely focused on not screaming or running away. Scorpius tensed in his arms.

“Go!” Before he had a chance to react, someone shoved him squarely in the back, and the sledge jerked over the lip of the slope.

They rapidly gained speed as they hurtled down the slope. The runners of the other sledges whipped up snow and ice into the air, greatly reducing visibility. The exposed areas of Albus’ face stung as snow peppered it, so he pressed his face further into the back of Scorpius’ neck—both to shield himself and to avoid seeing the scenery flashing past at a stomach-emptying pace. With his nose wedged against Scorpius’ back and eyes firmly scrunched shut, he breathed in deeply to centre himself, getting a lungful Scorpius’ warm, comforting scent. He smelt like hot tea and winter and that fancy soap he used, and Albus felt himself calming down as he inhaled another lungful.

Their sledge veered sharply to the right. Scorpius yelped, and Albus’ eyes snapped open. Before Albus could work out what was happening, he was flung from the sledge, skidding to a stop, face first in the snow. 

His breath was knocked out of him, and his heart pounded in his chest, the rhythm thrumming through his body. There was shouting, muffled and distant, but he couldn’t make out a word. He rolled onto his back, blinking as snowflakes tickled his face; the swirling mass of snowfall was indistinguishable from the pale grey sky. His side throbbed from where he’d landed awkwardly, and his head felt fuzzy, but he didn’t think anything was broken—not badly, anyway. He couldn’t recall the pain of the broken wrist he’d got as a child after James had dared him to climb the large tree in their back garden, but he remembered knowing it was definitely broken. Nothing stood out, pain-wise, for the time being. Hopefully, Scorpius was... _ Shit _ ! Where was Scorpius?

He scrambled to his feet, ignoring the stab of pain in his side, and spun around frantically searching for his friend. It didn’t take long to spot him—a dark tangle of robes stark against the snow beside a broken sledge.

“Scorpius!” Albus cried, stumbling through the snow to where his best friend lay prone on the snow. He collapsed to his knees, unable to think or move or speak. In the periphery, people moved around him, but all he could see was Scorpius—his beautiful, bright, excitable best friend, now pale and lifeless against the snow.

 

Then, everything faded to black.


	5. Chapter 5

As Albus emerged from unconsciousness, he was struck with the woodsy tang of dittany and the sharp, almost citrusy scent of disinfectant charms. Unfamiliar noises filled his ears—the clink of glass bottles, a low murmur of conversation, the rattle of a trolley moving across the flagstones. His eyelids still felt heavy and he was reluctant to open them and shake off the fuzzy warmth of deep sleep, but curiosity won out in the end.

“Albus! You’re awake! Oh, thank Merlin.” His dad’s face, drawn and haggard with concern, filled his vision.

“Dad? What’re...what’s…” Albus tried to push himself up but winced as a dull ache blossomed in his side. With a groan, he flopped back down on the starchy sheets; he knew there was something he needed to do...but what was it? His thoughts felt like they were running through tar.

“Shhh, it’s okay Al, just lay back and rest up. You’ve cracked a couple of ribs, so Poppy’s dosed you up with a strong pain potion and something to help the bones fuse. You’re going to feel a bit out of it for a while. Oh, and you fainted, so there’s probably some concussion there, too.”

“Oh...okay…” Albus settled back on the bed. The niggling feeling that he was forgetting something persisted, but he tried to ignore it.

“What were you thinking? Sledging without a single cushioning charm. Do you have a death wish? Always,  _ always _ remember your cushioning charms when sledging. Did you forget what happened with your Uncle George? Honestly, I expect this sort of thing from James, but not you. I thought you were more sensible than this!”

“Wait...sledging…?” Suddenly, everything came flooding back—hurtling down the hill, getting thrown from the sledge, Scorpius lying motionless on the snow…“Scorpius!” Albus bolted upright, ignoring the pain in his ribcage and the fluttery, light feeling in his head. “Where’s Scorpius? Is he okay? I have to see him!”

“Calm down, Al—” his dad started, reaching out and gently pushing his shoulders to get him to lie down.

“Don’t tell me to calm down—” Albus grunted, struggling against his dad’s hold. “Get  _ off _ me! I need to see him!”

“No!” Harry shouted. “What you  _ need _ is to stay here, at least until Poppy says it’s alright to leave, okay? Scorpius is fine. A broken arm, broken nose, concussion, and more than his fair share of cuts and bruises, but Draco is with him, so please don’t worry. Now, rest up so I can shout at you some more without feeling guilty.”

Albus slumped back on the bed. Everything screamed at him to go to Scorpius—to check with his own eyes that he was okay—but he knew his dad would body-bind him to the bed if he tried to leave. His head wasn’t feeling clear enough to form a rational argument in his favour. He huffed and glared up at the ceiling, annoyed that he couldn’t storm off. Out of the corner of his eye, his dad settled back into the rigid visitor’s chair, resigning himself to a long, tense wait. But then something his dad had said occurred to him.

“Since when do you call Scorpius’ dad  _ Draco _ ?” Albus asked, curiosity beating his desire to not talk to his dad.

He watched with amusement as his dad’s cheeks coloured. “It’s not that odd,” he spluttered, dragging a hand through already messy hair. “We’ve known each other over thirty years, so I think we can stand to be a bit informal with each other.” 

“Yeah, but you’ve hated each other for, like, twenty of those years, at least," Albus stated.

“That’s not...Why would you say that?”

“C’mon. It’s hardly a secret. And I used to hear what you and Uncle Ron said about him. I’m not an idiot. And your code—‘ _ that blond prick _ ’—wasn’t hard to decipher…”

“Ah…” his dad chuckled nervously. “Well, people change and grow and—”

Whatever excuse he’d been about to make was cut short by Draco’s head poking through the gap in the curtains.

“Ah, fantastic, you’re up. I’m not interrupting, am I, Harry?” Draco asked.

Albus huffed in irritation but shook his head, and his dad practically yelped ‘No!’

Confusion flickered across Draco’s face, but it was gone so quickly, Albus thought he might have imagined it.

“Great. Scorpius is desperate to know how Albus is—”

“Is he okay?” asked Albus eagerly, unable to wait for Draco to finish speaking.

Draco smiled, clearly amused by Albus’ impatience. “He’s a little bit black and blue, but—”

The curtain whipped back, revealing Scorpius. There was a dark, angry-looking bruise running from his cheek to his nose, making him look even more pale than usual, and his right arm was bandaged and strapped across his chest. Aside from that, he seemed okay.

“Albus! You’re awake!” Scorpius cried, ignoring his father’s splutters. “Hello, Mr Potter,” he said politely before turning is full attention back to Albus. “Oh thank Merlin, Salazar, Godric…the whole lot! Can you ever forgive me?”

Albus scrunched up his face. “Forgive you for what? You didn’t do anything!” He tried to push himself up again to scoot closer to the edge of the bed. He wanted—no, he  _ needed _ —to get a better look at Scorpius to check with his own eyes that everything was okay. 

“But it’s my fault you’re here! You never even wanted to go sledging, and I forced you!” Scorpius wailed, reaching out with his undamaged arm. Albus gladly took the proffered hand in his own and squeezed, dragging Scorpius towards him.

“Boys! Enough! As touching as this reunion is, you both need rest!” urged Albus’ dad, reminding both boys of their audience. Albus snatched his hand back and hoped the flush on his face wasn’t as obvious as it felt. He’d just wanted to reassure his best friend that he wasn’t to blame—why did he feel like he’d been caught doing something inappropriate? 

“What on earth is going on in here?” snapped a fifth voice. All four of them startled as Madam Pomfrey appeared; then exchanged guilty glances when faced with her stern glare.

“Sorry, Madam Pomfrey, we were—” Albus’ dad started.

Madam Pomfrey turned the full force of her glare on Harry. Albus smothered a giggle as he watched his dad flinch, staring at his feet like a naughty school boy. She tutted, then turned her glare to the Malfoys, who stood sheepishly on the other side of Albus’ bed.

“Young master Malfoy, you need to return to your bed immediately. I distinctly remember informing you that you were to be confined to your bed until Monday afternoon at the very earliest. And you,” she addressed Scorpius’ dad, “should know better than to allow your severely injured son to go waltzing about the infirmary willy-nilly.”

“Yes, Madam Pomfrey, of course. I’ll escort him back to bed immediately,” Draco said. He put a firm hand on Scorpius’ uninjured shoulder and guided him back towards his own bed. Scorpius managed a quick wave goodbye, which Albus returned, before disappearing behind the privacy curtain.

“As for you, Mr Potter,” Madam Pomfrey continued, “I’ll not stand for raised voices in my infirmary. It upsets the other patients who might be trying to sleep.”

“Sorry, Madam Pomfrey,” Albus’ dad mumbled.

“Master Potter, I’ll be checking on you after my rounds, but all being well, you should be free to return to your common room this evening.”

“Thank you, Madam Pomfrey.” Albus was glad he wouldn’t have to spend the night in the infirmary, but he wasn’t looking forward to going back to the dorm without Scorpius. He couldn’t remember the last time they’d spent the night apart while at school.

With a flick of her wand, she drew the curtain around the bed, and Albus exchanged an amused look with his dad. For once, it felt like they were both on the same side.

“Um, I should probably head back soon,” his dad said apologetically, rubbing the back of his neck. “I’m, um…I’m supposed to be going out for dinner tonight.”

“Oh. Right. Okay.” Albus wasn’t sure why, but he felt a bit disappointed. He and his dad barely got on at the best of times, but his presence was vaguely reassuring in the way only a parent’s can be. “Did you have to Floo here from home, or did you get a Portkey?” he asked, realising that his dad must have dropped everything to rush to Hogwarts.

“Um, no...actually, I was already in Hogwarts visiting a friend so I, ah, just walked, or ran, really—you gave me quite a scare,” he said, chuckling nervously.

Albus narrowed his eyes. The only friend his dad had in Hogwarts was the Headmaster—who also happened to be Albus’ godfather, a fact that would never  _ not _ be embarrassing—but he’d never randomly visited him, as far as Albus knew. “What friend?” he asked, genuinely curious.

“Oh, it’s not important,” his dad replied, waving his hand in dismissal. “Anyway, you should probably get some rest if you want Pomfrey to release you later.”

“Yeah, I suppose so,” Albus shrugged. He was too tired to force the matter when it was obvious his dad didn’t want him to know. He made a note to hassle via owl later. “Thanks for visiting, Dad.”

“They couldn’t have kept me away, even if they wanted to. Love you, Al.” 

Albus grimaced as his Dad leant down to kiss him on the cheek, but he didn’t move out of the way—and  _ maybe _ he kissed him back, but it didn’t count if no one saw. 

“Ugh, Daaaad,” he whined, scrubbing his cheek with his hand. 

His dad laughed and ruffled Albus’ hair fondly. 

Draco poked his head through the split in the curtain, interrupting their brief father-son moment. “Harry, hi. Sorry to intrude again. Scorpius is having a nap, so I thought I’d head back to my quarters to get ready. Are you coming? The snow’s picking up again, so best not leave it too long if we want to make the reservation.”

“Um, yeah, sure. I’ll come with you. Just a minute,” Harry replied, his eyes flicking nervously to Albus.

“Bye, Albus. I hope you feel better soon,” Draco said as he closed the gap in the curtains with a swish.

“Er...yeah...bye,” Albus stared at the gap where Draco’s head had just been, his mind furiously piecing together bits of the puzzle. “Dad? What did he mean by ‘reservations?’ Is Scorpius’ dad the friend you’re staying with?”

“Well, looks like I’d best be off, unless I want to get snowed in! We’ll talk later, okay?” his dad said in a rush and darted through the gap in the privacy curtain with his face aflame. 

Albus gaped after him, confused. Why would his dad be embarrassed about finally being friends with Draco? It could only be a good thing, surely. He eventually drifted off into a pleasant doze, imagining he and Scorpius spending whole summers together while their dads drank tea and talked politics, or whatever else adults spoke about together.

 

* * *

 

True to her word, Madam Pomfrey released Albus from her care that evening, just in time for the tail end of dinner. His ribs and head still felt a little sore, but Pomfrey had said that the pain would subside over the next couple of days. The fractures were healed, though, and he was free from the effects of the mild concussion, so thankfully, he wasn’t considered ill enough to be taking up a bed. 

He wandered slowly towards the Great Hall, not paying attention to where he was going; his head was still full of worry for Scorpius. His first thought upon being freed from the infirmary was to go and check on him, but Madam Pomfrey herded him out of the infirmary before he could even peek behind the privacy curtain around Scorpius’ bed. She’d assured him Scorpius was fine, so as much as he hated it, Albus had little choice but to take her word for it. 

As he entered the Great Hall, he felt momentarily lost. Where would he sit? He couldn’t remember the last time he’d been for a meal without Scorpius at his side. Usually, if Scorpius couldn’t make it to a meal, Albus would either not eat or sneak something from the kitchens (he wasn’t above using his Dad’s fame amongst the House Elves to score some sandwiches or cakes every now and then). He shuffled towards his and Scorpius’ usual spot at the Slytherin table, but before he could get there, Rose summoned him over by yelling his name at the top of her lungs. With a roll of his eyes, he walked over to see what she wanted.

“Albus! Oh my God! I’m so happy you’re okay,” she said, engulfing him in a tight hug. The hair in her high, bushy, bunches tickled his nose as she pressed her face into his collar. He returned the hug, though with slightly less vigour.

When Rose released him from her embrace, she clamped her hands on his shoulders so he couldn’t escape. “How could you do this to me!” She cried, whacking him on the arm. “I was so worried! Is Scorp okay? I tried to visit, but Pomfrey wouldn’t let me in,—miserable cowbag! I saw Uncle Harry and Professor Malfoy leave, though—how long has  _ that _ been going on?—and they said you were both okay, but Merlin, I feel so bloody guilty! I never should have made you nerds race us.”

“Why is everyone feeling guilty that I hurt myself? I’m capable of making my own decisions, you know,” Albus bit out. Rose’s face crumpled, and he instantly felt bad for snapping at her. “Sorry. It’s just I’ve already had Scorpius apologise for forcing me down the hill, and Dad had a go at me because I’m apparently too sensible to get injured sledging. I can think for myself. I can be reckless if I feel like it.”

“Whatever, Al. Just don’t do it again, because for a second, I thought you were both dead, and it was absolutely horrible! Anyway, what’s going on with your Dad and Professor Malfoy?” 

“Um, nothing’s ‘ _ going on. _ ’ They’re just friends, like me and Scorp, obviously. I know it’s weird ‘cause they used to hate each other, but if it means me and Scorp can hang out more, I don’t care.”

Rose gave him a strange look, her eyes almost mocking. “Yeah. Exactly like you and Scorp.”

When Albus eventually extricated himself from her grasp, he went to his normal spot at the Slytherin table, though he didn’t have much of an appetite. It was really odd being at dinner without Scorpius—he hadn’t realised how much he relied on Scorpius’ company at school until now, as he sat all by himself. He slightly regretted not making more of an effort to befriend other people. 

This wouldn’t have been a problem for Scorpius. He talked to anyone; it was just that a lot of the time, people didn’t want to listen. Merlin, Albus missed him, and it had only been a few hours. 

 

* * *

 

The first thing Albus did on Monday morning was rush down to the infirmary. 

Madam Pomfrey wouldn’t let him in to see Scorpius, though. She also denied him after breakfast, during lunch, and after last period. He decided that if she turned him away after dinner, he would just blast his way in regardless—he wasn’t going to let her keep him from his best friend any longer. 

Thankfully, it didn’t come to that. As soon as Albus stepped into the Great Hall, he spotted Scorpius. 

Instantly, his heart started racing. Had it really only been a day since they’d seen each other? 

He picked up his pace, careful not to stumble over his feet as he weaved through the groups of students milling about between tables. 

It appeared that Scorpius didn’t notice his approach. He was hunched over the table, listlessly pushing beef stew around his plate with his left hand. His right, immobilized in a cast, was tucked against his body. The dark smudges beneath his eyes suggested he’d barely slept; not even the large purple bruise across his nose could disguise the bags. 

Albus’ heart clenched.

“Hey, Scorp!” Albus said as he slid into the empty space beside his friend. Relief flooded through him now that his friend was back, and he wouldn’t have to suffer another lonely meal time.

Scorpius startled. “Albus!” he cried, then quickly looked down at his plate again.

This close, the dark circles were even more prominent, and his eyes looked puffy, like he’d been crying. Albus frowned, the happiness that had filled him upon seeing Scorpius draining away.

“Scorp? You look—Are you...Are you okay? Do you need me to take you back to the infirmary?” Albus asked. He didn’t want Pomfrey to keep them apart again, but if Scorpius’ injuries were still bad…

Scorpius turned to him, and Albus immediately noticed his watery eyes. “I’m so sorry, Al...I completely understand if you don’t want to be friends anymore. What sort of friend am I anyway to force you into doing things you hate and almost get you killed in the process?”

“What? I thought we covered this already? I don’t blame you in the slightest! I’m not in any particular hurry to go sledging anytime soon, but it was my decision to accept Rose’s challenge. And it was my decision to climb on the sledge behind you, so just shut the fuck up with your guilt, okay?”

“But you didn’t come back to visit! I thought you were angry at me, or maybe that Father had threatened you or something,” Scorpius mumbled.

“You idiot. Like your Dad could stop us from hanging out. Pomfrey though— _ that _ woman has too much power by half. I tried to visit you loads of times, but she never let me in! I was going to break in tonight if she hadn’t released you. Evil witch.”

“Aw, you were going to disobey a teacher for me?” Scorpius asked hopefully, a grin breaking out across his face.

“Absolutely. I’d break every stupid rule in this place for you,” Albus replied, his face heating as he replayed the words in his head.

“Thanks, Al,” Scorpius said with a warm smile. “Same.” He slung his good arm around Albus’ shoulders and gave him a squeeze. 

Albus froze, his heart stuttering at the sudden contact. 

When Scorpius removed his arm only a few seconds later, Albus instantly missed the warm weight of it on his shoulders. They remained close enough that their sleeves rubbed against each other. Eating would be tricky with so little space to manoeuvre, but food was now the furthest thing from Albus’ mind. He let Scorpius’ light-hearted chatter wash over him and basked in the joy of having been able to put the smile back on Scorpius’ face.

They were just friends, he told himself. Best friends. This was normal friend stuff.

As Scorpius soaked up the last of his gravy with a piece of bread, Albus remembered his dad’s strange behaviour at the infirmary.

“Hey, Scorp, did you know our dads are friends now? Like, they were actually hanging out together here when we had the accident.”

“No, I most definitely did  _ not _ know this little nugget of information. This is a good thing though, right? Maybe if they like each other we’ll see each other more in the holidays!”

“Yeah, it’s good. I just thought it was odd they never said anything to either of us, but whatever,” Albus shrugged. Scorpius was right—it  _ was _ good. He pushed Rose’s odd comment to the back of his mind and focused on Scorpius’ growing smile.

“Oh! Maybe we can go on family camping trips together! Oh my gosh. This could be so much fun!” Scorpius squealed.

Albus laughed, shaking his head fondly as Scorpius rattled off all the amazing things they could do now that their dads were on good terms. He couldn’t help thinking that most of the things he suggested would be more fun if it was just the two of them, without their boring old dads getting in the way...but he kept that thought to himself.


	6. Chapter 6

The week following the sledging incident, Albus and Scorpius spent their free time either in the common room catching up on all the homework they’d avoided over the weekend or squashed together on a bed reading comics or chatting. Albus’ aches had mostly disappeared by Tuesday, and Scorpius got his cast removed on Wednesday—so by Saturday, Scorpius was more than eager to get them outside in the snow again (because, of course, it hadn’t melted yet, much to Albus’ disappointment).

“No. Absolutely not, Scorpius,” Albus scolded. “Madam Pomfrey said you had to rest for a week! We’re only on day  _ six _ , so march back in there and take those winter clothes off. We’re going to the library, not the Arctic.” He stood in front of the door with his hands on his hips, blocking Scorpius from sneaking out of their dormitory.

“I’m not suggesting we throw ourselves down any slopes, but we can at least go for a walk? Pleeease? The snow could all melt tomorrow, and I still need to prove to you that it’s fun!” Scorpius pleaded. “Also, I’ve been stuck inside all week—I’m going crazy! Do you want me to lose my mind, Al? Do you?!”

“But...what if you slip and break your arm again? Or get another concussion?” Albus asked worriedly. He was torn. He wanted so desperately to make Scorpius happy, but he was also afraid his best friend might get injured again. He also hated snow and  _ really _ wanted to spend at least one weekend indoors instead of freezing his bollocks off. 

“I won’t! I’ll be really careful,” promised Scorpius. “You could even hold my hand, if you like, to keep me from falling. Come on, Al, it’ll be good to get some fresh air! Maybe we can say hi to Hagrid and ask him to make that cocoa you love so much. Please, please, please?”

Albus’ brain stalled. All he could think about was holding hands with Scorpius. Was he serious? Did friends even hold hands? It wouldn’t be a weird thing to do, surely? So why did the thought make his chest feel all tight and uncomfortable? 

He mentally shook himself to clear his head. Scorpius was his best friend; he could do this for him. He just needed to stop thinking so hard about everything.

“Okay, fine. But we’re just walking. And you have to promise me you’ll be careful—no running, no skidding on purpose, and absolutely no throwing yourself into tree trunks and almost getting yourself killed.”

Scorpius grinned and placed his hand on his heart. “I can honestly say without a doubt that I will abide by all those rules.”

Once they stepped outside, Albus immediately regretted agreeing to leave the warmth of the castle. Snow had begun falling again, accompanied by a strong, gusty wind that whipped the snow around so it seemed to be coming from every direction at once. He tightened the scarf around his neck and face, stuffing the ends into his thick winter coat, and tugged his hat snuggly onto his head. It was all futile as it was impossible to shield his face completely. Scorpius had made him practice heating charms over the last few days, so at least he was warm despite the snow and wind working its way under his clothes. 

“How about we head down there, and then swing round by that small copse and over to Hagrid’s?” Scorpius said, his finger tracing the proposed path across the snowy landscape in the air.

Albus pursed his lips. It didn’t look  _ too _ strenuous, he supposed. What could go wrong? And there was the promise of Hagrid’s cocoa at the end…“Okay, but you’ll tell me if you feel tired or if your arm starts to hurt, or—”

“There’s absolutely nothing wrong with me, so stop fussing, you intolerable mother hen!” Scorpius said indignantly, whacking him on the arm. “Come on, before we turn into snowmen and—” He shrieked as his foot skidded out from under him. His hand flew out and grabbed Albus’ arm just in time to save himself from pitching face first down the steps.

Once they’d both recovered from the fright—Albus’ surprised yelp was as almost as shrill as his best friend’s—they made their way down in shocked silence, their limbs shaky on the icy, uneven stairs. Scorpius kept a firm hold of Albus’ arm the whole way.

“You’re going to be the death of me,” Albus muttered as they reached more stable ground. 

Scorpius released his death grip on Albus’ arm—and took hold of Albus’ hand instead. 

Albus paused, unable to tear his eyes away from where their bodies joined. So he  _ had _ been serious. 

This was new. 

Very new. 

Did Scorpius even realise what he was doing? Was he supposed to shake him off? Scorpius’ warmth leached through the thick material of their gloves. Albus decided he didn’t  _ want _ to shake him off.

As if Scorpius sensed the thoughts racing through Albus’ mind, he spoke up. “Is...is this okay?” He raised their joined hands to make it clear what he was talking about and watched Albus carefully, like he expected him to bolt at any second. Maybe he thought the hand holding felt weird, too? It felt marginally better imagining he wasn't alone in freaking out, even though Scorpius had been the one to initiate. “I thought this way we could keep each other from falling. But if it’s too weird...then—“

“No!” Albus interjected before Scorpius could pull away. Okay, so that was a lie—it was a  _ bit _ weird—but he didn’t want it to stop. Aware that Scorpius was waiting for something more, Albus continued. “It’s…it’s not weird. You’re right, we can help keep each other upright. Good idea.”

“Okay. Good. That’s…good,” Scorpius said in a reassuring tone, though it seemed more for his benefit than for Albus. “Let’s go then!”

Albus was pleasantly surprised by the walk. It actually wasn’t bad being outside. Okay, so the snow was annoying with the way it kept blowing into his face, and visibility was pretty poor. After spending the week cooped up indoors, however, it felt good to be outside. 

Having Scorpius’ hand in his was a nice bonus. Once they’d gotten over the initial awkwardness, it wasn’t weird at all. 

In the distance, several groups of students skated, their whoops and shouts audible despite the strong wind. He and Scorpius encountered very few people on their wandering. The first time they drew near other students, Albus glanced guiltily down at their clasped hands, wondering whether he should pull his hand out of Scorpius’ grasp. He didn’t want people jumping to the wrong conclusion, as they obviously would if they saw them walking hand-in-hand. Scorpius probably wouldn’t like people thinking that, and he was too innocent to consider it himself. 

Scorpius must have noticed him tense up, because he paused in his story about some obscure fifteenth-century potions master and turned to Albus, eyebrows drawn together in concern.

“Are you okay?” Scorpius asked, tilting his head slightly to peer at Albus.

Albus flinched as Scorpius squeezed his hand. He stepped back to put a little more space between them before Scorpius could notice how much he was affected by the action.

“Um, yeah, sure….Just…aren’t you worried they might think we’re… _ you know _ .”

Scorpius stared at him blankly. When he caught onto Albus’ meaning, his shoulders sagged. “Oh, right. I suppose it could give people that impression. Does it upset you that people might think that?”

“No! No, not really. I don’t know. We know we’re just friends…so…I shouldn’t care, but…”

“…But you do. Sorry. It won’t happen again,” Scorpius said dejectedly, dropping Albus’ hand.

Albus regretted saying anything but couldn’t think of what he could do to reverse it. As awful as it was, and as much as he hated himself for it, it was true—he  _ did _ care what people thought of him. He already drew enough attention as Harry Potter’s son; he didn’t want to give the gossipers more fuel by getting caught hand-in-hand with his best friend. Especially since their assumptions about them couldn’t ever be true, even if Scorpius  _ did _ like boys (and Albus was fairly certain he didn’t based on his years of awkward flirting with Rose). 

He tried not to dwell on how cold and empty his hand felt now.

Scorpius had pulled a little way ahead while Albus had been inside his own head. He picked up his pace to catch his friend up, but Scorpius refused to acknowledge him as he drew closer; his annoyance clear in his grim, stormy expression.

“Hey, I’m sorry,” Albus said, nudging him gently with his elbow. 

“It’s fine. Really. I just forget sometimes how much you hate people talking about you. And why would you want people to think you’re romantically involved with someone like me? A Potter and a Malfoy, and both boys, too? Absolutely bloody ridiculous.”

There was a brief moment of silence where Scorpius’ words hung in the air. 

Albus snorted, and the tension was broken. “Don’t be like that. You’re an amazing catch. I’d be lucky to be going out with someone like you,” he blurted before his brain had a chance to filter the words. 

Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Scorpius stumble, but he managed to save himself before hitting the ground. “Thanks,” Scorpius mumbled into his scarf, then added quietly; “Anyone would be lucky to have you, too.”

Albus chuckled. “Hah. Want to spread that around a bit? I don’t think anyone else got the memo.” 

With a laugh, Scorpius shoved Albus playfully before picking his story back up. They didn’t join hands again, which Albus tried not to feel too disappointed about, but at least Scorpius was no longer trying to power walk away from him. The weird tension slipped away like it never even existed.

They continued their slow amble around the grounds for another half hour or so before Albus realised he was completely lost. The snow had briefly let up, which led them to pursue a longer path than they’d initially intended, but now it was back to blizzard levels again. Albus could barely tell which way was up or down, let alone where the castle was. He couldn’t even hear any sounds from other students, so they could have wandered to the other end of Scotland for all he knew.

“Um…Do you have any idea where we are?” he asked hesitantly, trying to keep the panic from bleeding into his voice. Scorpius had always had a better head for directions than him, so he was probably worrying over nothing.

“No? I’ve been following you. I can’t see a bloody thing in this snow,” Scorpius replied.

Albus stopped and gaped at Scorpius. “What? But I’ve been following you!” he yelled.

“Oh! Oh, shit.” Scorpius spun around, scanning their surroundings, but it was pointless. The snow was falling more thickly with each passing minute, and they could barely see more than a few metres in any direction.

“Oh my God. We’re going to die! And they’re not going to find our bodies until spring! I can’t die at school, Scorp—that’s my dad’s thing!” Albus cried, gripping the front of Scorpius’ coat and shaking him.

“Okay, okay. Calm down!” Scorpius placed his hands over Albus’ where they had a death grip on his lapels. “Let’s just think rationally about this. We’re wizards, right? And bloody good ones at that. We’re not going to freeze while we still have our wands and our wits about us. The school is surrounded by forest, water, and a huge fucking wall, so let’s just pick a direction and walk straight—we’re bound to hit an edge eventually, right? Then we can either stay where we are or follow it round until we get to a footpath or something recognisable.”

“Yeah, yeah. That sounds good,” Albus said, nodding. He could already feel his heart rate calming down. It was funny, really—everyone always thought he was the level-headed, rational one, but whenever something bad happened, it was always Scorpius who stepped up and talked him down from his panic. “Oh, could we use that  _ Point Me _ spell?”

“Well, we could, but since we don’t know where we are or in which direction we need to go, I’m not sure what use it would be,” Scorpius frowned.

“No, but at least we could use it to pick a direction and then stick to it, rather than walking in circles.”

“Yes! You’re brilliant, Al!” Scorpius said, engulfing Albus in a snowy, woolly hug.

They decided to head north since it was the most straightforward, and they both reckoned they had been slightly south of the castle. In reality, though, it was little more than a stab in the dark. They walked for what felt like hours—Albus had to renew his warming charm twice—but eventually, large, dark towers emerged from the blizzard, looming over them.

“Is that the castle?” Scorpius exclaimed breathlessly, gripping hold of Albus’ arm as they drew closer.

They sped up, slipping and stumbling through almost knee deep snow, both eager for the ordeal to end, but as the towers materialised, it became rapidly apparent this was not the castle.

“The Quidditch pitch?!” Albus cried, despair welling up inside him. “I’m cold, and I’m wet, and I’m hungry, and we’re at the  _ fucking _ Quidditch pitch!?”

“It’s not so bad—” Scorpius flinched as Albus glared at him. “No, no, hear me out. At least we know where we are now. The changing room and equipment sheds are on the side facing the castle, so once we find them, we’ll know where we are and where we need to go! No problem.”

Albus grudgingly agreed that Scorpius  _ might _ have a point, and they continued walking. 

“How are you so happy and positive all of the time?” Albus grumbled after a few minutes. 

“I’ve made it my life’s work to neutralise your negativity. It’s not always the easiest job, but I think I do okay.” 

“Ha bloody ha.”

It didn’t take long to find the outbuildings they were looking for, and a quick  _ Alohomora _ later, they were sat in the relative warmth and shelter of the changing rooms. It smelt like an unholy mix of dirty socks and damp underwear, but at least they weren’t getting snowed on.

“I fucking hate snow,” Albus announced, sitting down heavily on a rickety wooden bench and leaning back against the wall. He stretched out his legs and groaned, his muscles tight and aching. He just knew he’d be sore when he woke the next day…if he ever got back to the castle. 

“I can’t say I blame you,” Scorpius said with a breathy chuckle, sitting beside him and mirroring his position. 

They’d cast drying charms on their clothes as soon as they got inside, and now Albus felt warm and sleepy. If it wasn’t for the hunger pangs, he would have fallen asleep within minutes. 

He glanced at Scorpius. His eyes were closed and his head tilted up towards the ceiling as he leaned back on the bench. Albus studied his profile, tracing his delicate features with his eyes. Maybe it was the stress of almost dying in a blizzard, but it suddenly struck him how pretty Scorpius was. His skin was smooth and pale like cream, except for the light dusting of freckles across the top of his cheekbones. Albus felt an undeniable urge to touch him, to find out if it was as soft as it looked. He tentatively reached out a hand, desperate to feel the warmth of Scorpius’ skin beneath his fingers—needing to run his thumb across those wind-burnt cheekbones. But then Scorpius snapped his eyes open, and Albus yanked his hand back, covering his embarrassment with a cough.

“You okay?” Scorpius asked, sitting forward.

Albus let out a shaky breath. Even with his limited knowledge of appropriate social interaction, he knew it wasn’t exactly  _ normal _ to want to caress his best friend’s face. It would undoubtedly lead to some awkward questions that he didn’t think he could answer right now, and he really didn't want to fuck things up between them—without Scorpius, he'd be nothing. Merlin, he was so screwed. “Ah, yeah, fine. Just…fine. Yeah,” he replied, still flustered.

“Okay, as long as you’re  _ fine _ ,” Scorpius laughed, rolling his eyes, then leant back and stared up at the ceiling again. Albus couldn’t blame him—there wasn’t really much else to look at.

“So, what now?” Albus asked after a few minutes, once he regained his composure. He really hoped Scorpius had some magical solution that would get them back to the dorm without having to go outside.

Scorpius took a breath and puffed his cheeks out as he exhaled. “I don’t know about you, but I’m in no rush to get lost in a blizzard anytime soon. I say we wait it out here for a bit and hope it clears in time for dinner.”

“Yeah? Sounds good to me.” It wasn’t ideal, but Albus would definitely take waiting around in changing room stink over going back outside anytime soon.

It was eerily quiet in the changing rooms without the usual sounds of people showering or changing, and the snow deadened any sounds that might have come from outside. Albus could only remember being inside the changing rooms a couple of times before, and that had only been because of James. 

Quidditch had never held much interest for him, and other than being forced to watch matches because his Mum or James were playing, he didn’t have much to do with it—just another way he’d disappointed his father, he thought bitterly. James, perfect son that he was, would never have gotten himself lost in a snowstorm on school grounds. Albus felt his eyelids grow heavy as Scorpius chattered about something or other, so he let his eyes drift closed. He knew he should probably worry about getting snowed in, but for the moment, he felt safe and warm. Scorpius’s melodic voice was having a soporific effect on him, so he couldn’t summon the energy to care about anything.

As long as he and Scorpius were together, he didn’t care where they were.

“It’s stopped!” Scorpius shouted.

Albus’ eyes flicked open, and he sat up. He blinked a few times and squinted at his surroundings, unsure where he was. “Whu…what?” he mumbled, his tongue thick and claggy in his mouth. Scorpius was standing in the open doorway, weak sunlight streaming in and outlining Scorpius’ slender frame. Both his hair and the floor beneath his feet glowed, making him look almost ethereal.

“Come on, sleeping beauty. We should head back to the castle before it gets dark,” Scorpius urged.

Albus frowned.  _ Sleeping beauty _ ? He’d only closed his eyes for a second. He yawned and stood up, wincing as his muscles protested…okay, maybe it had been more than a second. “What’s stopped?”

“The snow! Honestly, Al, you really are useless sometimes,” Scorpius said, tugging on his woolly hat and stepping outside.

Suddenly, it all came rushing back—the pleasant walk, the not-so-pleasant blizzard, seeking shelter in the changing rooms, almost feeling up Scorpius’ face—and he hurried to follow his friend. 

After the gloom of the changing rooms, the brightness that assaulted him as soon as he stepped outside was positively blinding. He shielded his eyes with his arms. When his vision adjusted to the light, the scene that unfolded before him took his breath away. The clouds had cleared, and the sky was a pale, watery blue. As far as he could see, everything was a glimmering white, and there wasn’t a single person out. It felt as if he and Scorpius were the last two left in the world. 

Scorpius crunched over to him, his legs disappearing up to his knees with each step. “My boots are going to be ruined. Will you visit my graveside and weep for me after Father murders me?”

“Of course,” Albus agreed immediately. “I’ll even bring you flowers.”

“Thanks, I knew I liked you for a reason. Now,  _ come on _ . Let’s go—if I don’t get a hot chocolate within the half hour, I fear I might perish.”

Albus snorted and rolled his eyes. “And you called  _ me _ a drama queen...” he muttered as he tromped through the snow after Scorpius.

It wasn’t long before they were back in the common room, showered and defrosted, with a mug of hot chocolate in hand. The only good thing about snow, Albus thought as he burrowed deeper into his hoodie, was coming back inside and sitting in front of a roaring fire with a hot drink. 

Scorpius chatted with a couple of people from their year, regaling them with the story of their latest brush with death. His grey eyes were alight with joy, and his cheeks were still pink from their time outside. He was in his element; Albus’ couldn’t help but smile at him. 

It hit him again how beautiful Scorpius was. He wouldn’t look out of place on the cover of Witch Weekly with his proud, aristocratic features, and tall, lithe frame. Albus’ eyes ran along the length of Scorpius’ body. It baffled him that his best friend wasn’t having to beat back admirers with a stick—there certainly wasn’t a better-looking person in their year, nor even the entire school. Not that he wanted Scorpius to have a lot of admirers; Albus didn’t actually want to share him with anyone else.

“Away with the fairies again?” Scorpius asked, waving a hand in front of his face.

Albus jumped. He hadn’t noticed that Scorpius had come back to him. “Hmm? Oh, yeah, just thinking.”

“Well, don’t tire yourself out too much. Do you want to head to dinner? I’m famished. I can’t believe we missed lunch…”

Albus let Scorpius’ chatter wash over him as they headed towards the Great Hall, nodding and smiling in what he hoped were the right places, just happy to be in his company. 

He was starting to think he might be more than a little screwed.


	7. Chapter 7

Following Saturday’s blizzard, the snow let up for a time. The skies were clear, the air was crisp, and the grounds seemed to sparkle and shimmer in the pale sunlight. Granted, it was still as cold as a yeti’s nipple, the pathways were twice as treacherous due to all the ice, and students had taken to casting shield charms above their heads when walking through the courtyards to protect from falling icicles, but at least it wasn’t snowing. 

Along with the change in weather, Albus’ mood greatly improved. As an added bonus, Scorpius even stopped pestering him to play outside, so it was turning out to be the best few days he’d had in a while. He wasn’t stupid enough to think that things would stay that way, but he hoped he could eke it out for at least a week—maybe longer if he was really lucky. 

Albus was deep in thought as he meandered back to the common room after dinner, Scorpius chattering away at his side as usual. It was Hogsmeade weekend the coming Saturday, the last weekend before school broke up for Christmas, so he needed to get all of his Christmas shopping done. He was concentrating so hard on his mental shopping list that he didn’t notice that Scorpius had stopped and was no longer walking beside him. It was only when he turned to ask Scorpius whether he wanted to go halves on a gift for Rose (thus shifting responsibility for that gift onto Scorpius) that he saw a very flustered Scorpius in conversation with Rose’s friend, Mabel, a short distance behind him.

“Hey, Scorp, what gives?” Albus asked, approaching the pair. Scorpius was angled away from him, but the tips of his ears were bright red, and he was fiddling with the cuffs of his robes, dragging the material back and forth through his fingers.

As Albus drew closer, Mabel’s eyes flickered in his direction, and hurriedly stepped away from Scorpius.

“Okay, well, just let me know what you decide,” she said quickly, her cheeks uncharacteristically pink. “Bye, Scorpius, Albus.” She darted away in the opposite direction from where they were headed. 

Albus looked expectantly at Scorpius. It never even crossed his mind that it might be a private conversation—they had no secrets from each other. Scorpius blinked, looking like he’d just realised Albus was standing there. Bright red blotches marred his pale cheeks, and he looked slightly dazed, like he’d been Confunded.

“Scorp? Everything okay? What did she want?” Albus’ first thought was that something had happened to Scorpius’ dad, but that didn’t explain the flush on Mabel’s face. He was worried though; he’d never seen Scorpius looking so out of sorts.

Scorpius faced him, the confusion on his face dissipating as he focused on Albus. “Umm. I don’t want to alarm you, but I, er, I think I just got asked out,” he said carefully. 

Albus felt like his world had suddenly tilted on its side. His stomach lurched, and for a split second, he thought his dinner was about to make a sudden reappearance. “What?” he asked, desperately hoping that he’d perhaps misheard.

“Mabel. She asked me to go with her to Hogsmeade this Saturday.  _ Me _ .  _ She _ wants to spend time with  _ me _ . Just the two of us.  _ Alone _ .” He gripped hold of Albus’ shoulders and stared into his eyes pleadingly. “What should I do?”

Albus scowled. “How the fuck should I know?” he snapped, roughly pushing Scorpius’ hands off and stepping back. Scorpius stared at him in bewildered silence. His hands hung in the air between them, as if unsure whether he should try and comfort Albus or keep the fuck away. 

Albus hoped he’d do the latter; the surge of anger had taken him by surprise, and now he just wanted to hide. He wasn’t even sure what he was angry at—it wasn’t Scorpius’ fault he got asked out. Albus backed away without saying anything more. When he was certain Scorpius wasn’t about to follow, he turned and rushed toward the dungeons, leaving Scorpius alone in the corridor. 

Once back in the relative safety of his dormitory, Albus flung himself onto his bed and drew the curtains. Grabbing his pillow, he hugged it tightly to his chest as he curled up on his side and tried to calm down, his eyelids squeezed shut, as if the action could erase the sight of Scorpius’ hurt expression from his head. 

A couple of his dorm mates whispered to each other. He knew he was probably the topic, but he didn’t care. Let them gossip. He tuned them out and tried to process what had just happened—and why he had completely lost it.

A normal person would be happy if their friend got asked out, but all he felt was anger. He didn’t even like Mabel—why was he so pissed off that she’d asked Scorpius out? He couldn’t help but think about what would happen if they started dating. Would Scorpius have time for him if he got a girlfriend? Would it be worse to be excluded from things, or have to spend the rest of his time at Hogwarts as a useless third wheel? This issue had never come up before in their friendship; it had always been him and Scorpius against the world. 

Before Scorpius, he’d had no one. No real friends—just siblings and cousins he barely tolerated most of the time. His parents had been worried about him, but he had been happy by himself. After being friends with Scorpius, he didn’t think he’d be okay by himself again. 

Mabel was going to ruin everything. She was trying to steal Scorpius away from him! Didn’t she realise Scorpius was…was… _ his _ .

Shit.

Albus rolled on to his back and scrubbed his hands over his face. Did he really think Scorpius was his? He wasn’t jealous of Scorpius getting asked out, he realised with sickening clarity—he was jealous of Mabel. She had asked his Scorpius out, and because Albus had been too oblivious to realise the depth of his feelings, Scorpius didn’t even know someone else had a claim over his affections. 

He swore, frustrated at himself, at Scorpius, at Mabel. How could he act normally around Scorpius now? Maybe he was over thinking things…Just because he thought Scorpius was attractive, and just because he wanted to spend all of his time with him, and just because he wanted Mabel to develop a horrible contagious disease and have to flee Hogwarts forever…it might not mean he had actual  _ feelings _ for Scorpius. It had to be the stress of all the snow—it had sent his head loopy.

The door opened and closed, dragging Albus’ attention back to the room. He lay still and held his breath while his ears strained for any clues as to who it could be, although he was fairly sure he knew. Soft scuffs grew louder as someone walked across the rug towards his bed.

“Can I come in?” Scorpius asked hesitantly from the other side of the heavy drapes.

Albus puffed his cheeks out and slowly let out a breath.  _ Did _ he want Scorpius to come in? He knew it wasn’t fair to stay angry at his best friend; as far as he was concerned, Albus had turned on him for no reason. But, if he let Scorpius in, he’d have to explain  _ why _ he’d stormed off, and there was no way Albus was ready for that conversation. He barely knew the reasons himself!

“I know you’re mad because we agreed to go to Hogsmeade together,” Scorpius continued from outside the curtain, “but I haven’t actually told Mabel I’ll go with her. I’ll tell her tomorrow at breakfast that I already have plans, so you don’t have to worry. Just…please talk to me, Albus.”

Albus sat up in his bed so quickly his head swam. Scorpius was going to ditch a date for him? He was so,  _ so _ tempted to say, ‘Yes! Throw the cow over and spend the day with me!’…but he couldn’t do that to his best friend. He didn’t want to spend his life sabotaging all of Scorpius’ romantic endeavours, so he supposed he should get used to the jealousy. 

He pulled the curtain open a fraction, relieved to see Scorpius still standing there. “Hey. Come in.” Albus scooted back and made room for Scorpius beside him. 

“Thanks,” Scorpius smiled, his shoulders sagging with relief. He kicked off his shoes and clambered into the narrow bed, folding himself against the headboard. He hugged his legs to his chest with one arm as he absently chewed a thumbnail.

“I’m sorry for being a shit friend,” Albus said, without looking around. “Don’t ditch your date for me, please. I’ll be fine, really. I don’t know what came over me.” 

“I honestly don’t mind. I mean, I hardly know the girl—I’d much rather hang out with you.” Scorpius leaned into his side, and Albus caught his smile out of the corner of his eye. He ignored the way his stomach fluttered. 

“I mean it, don’t worry about me. I’ve a ton of Christmas shopping to do, anyway. You’d only get in the way.” 

“Charming!” Scorpius chuckled, elbowing him in the side, and Albus knew all was forgiven. They sat in comfortable silence for a few minutes. Albus listened to the gurgle of the lake as currents swirled against the dungeon wall. Sitting like this, he could almost pretend nothing had changed—he wondered if Scorpius would still be sat so close if he knew about Albus’ recent revelation.

“So, what do you think I should do?” Scorpius asked, breaking the silence.

Albus flinched, terrified that Scorpius had somehow heard his thoughts. “Do about what?”

“Mabel, of course! Honestly, where is your head recently?” Scorpius elbowed him again.

Albus let out a strangled laugh, a mixture of relief and irritation seeping through. He was glad that his friend wasn’t actually a mind reader, but it was irritating that the conversation had turned to  _ Mabel _ . “I dunno,” he shrugged. “It’s not like I have any experience with this sort of thing. Do you like her?”

“How am I supposed to know?! I mean, I’ve not really given it any thought before. She’s quite cute, I suppose, and I can see why other boys fancy her. And she’s always been pleasant enough when I’ve talked to her, but I don’t really  _ know _ her, you know?”

“I think that’s the whole point of dating—to get to know the other person better.”

“So you think I should go to Hogsmeade with her?”

“Do you want to get to know her better?” Albus countered.

Scorpius shrugged, staring at his hands as he twisted his wand between his fingers. “I don’t know. Maybe?”

“Then, go with her. What’s the worst that can happen? A few awkward silences?”

“Hey! I have excellent conversational skills, thank you very much. I’ll have you know I’m a delight at Father’s dinner parties.”

“There you go, then. You’ll probably have fun, and maybe even get a snog out of it if you’re lucky.”

Scorpius’ eyes widened. “Oh, Merlin. You don’t really think she’s going to try anything, do you?”

“Well, seeing as she asked you out, I imagine it’s on her mind that that’s where things are headed.”

“Oh,” Scorpius said weakly. “Hey, why don’t you come with us?” he added, brightening up as he looked at Albus.

“I’m not third-wheeling on your date,” Albus replied flatly. He shuddered; his nightmare was already coming true.

“I’m sure she wouldn’t mind. And it’s not really a date. She just asked me to accompany her to Hogsmeade and get some lunch.”

Albus shook his head and ran his hands over his face. Scorpius could be impossibly clueless sometimes. “It’s a date, you idiot.” 

“Oh.” Scorpius returned to chewing his thumbnail, probably turning over all the pros and cons of going on a date with Mabel in his usual methodical manner. 

Albus grabbed a book from his bedside table, opening it on a random page, and attempted to read. He needed to distract himself from thinking about Scorpius’ love life before he blurted out something he would later regret. Scorpius would never reciprocate his feelings, so he knew the best thing he could do was to ignore them and hope they went away.

The silence dragged on for a long while. Albus had given up trying to read anything after about ten minutes, unable to focus on any of the words. Instead, he found himself watching Scorpius, stealing glances whenever he could, to try and work out what he was thinking. He was pretty sure most people didn’t put so much thought into deciding whether or not to go to Hogsmeade with someone, but then Scorpius wasn’t like most people. It was getting harder and harder to keep from saying something the longer Scorpius deliberated, though.

“So you really think I should go out with her?” Scorpius blurted, staring at Albus as if he held the answers to everything.

Albus knocked his head against his knees and groaned. He was  _ not _ having this conversation again. “If you want. I honestly don’t care. Do what you like,” he snapped, instantly regretting it when Scorpius’ face fell. 

“Right,” Scorpius replied stiffly. Albus immediately got the impression he’d said the wrong thing. Perhaps he shouldn’t have said that he didn’t care, but what was he supposed to say? He wasn’t about to word-vomit his messed up emotions all over Scorpius— _ ‘Don’t go out with her because I’ve just realised that maybe I kind of like you a bit more than a friend should, and I want you to date me, instead.’ _

Yeah. That would go down well.

An awkward silence descended on them. Albus frantically searched his mind for a new topic so they could move on from the  _ Mabel _ discussion. Small talk was more Scorpius’ thing than his, though, so his brain was not cooperating in the slightest. Looking around for inspiration, he saw the book he had been pretending to read. “Did you start that Transfiguration essay yet?” he asked, relieved to have finally got some words out.

Scorpius smiled gratefully and relaxed back against the headboard as he rattled off what research he’d done so far. Albus tried his best to relax, too, but he couldn’t think of anything beyond the feeling of Scorpius’ arm as it pressed against his. 

He watched fondly as Scorpius spoke with enthusiasm about the limitations of  _ Avis _ . ( _ Imagine! You could conjure an owl and have it deliver a letter if you were in a pinch! Assuming, that is, that conjured owls work the same as real owls. That’s clearly something that would need further investigation, maybe for our final project… _ ). Albus had very little to add to the conversation, but as always, Scorpius was unconcerned. Albus was the reserved quiet to Scorpius’ loud enthusiasm—that’s how it had always been with them. Scorpius filled in the missing parts of him, and Albus couldn’t believe it had taken him so long to realise what the boy meant to him.

 

* * *

 

After a night mostly spent tossing and turning, Albus woke feeling sick and more exhausted than when he’d gone to bed. He hadn’t been able to stop imagining what Scorpius would get up to on his date no matter how much he told himself he didn’t care. 

He’d even toyed with the idea of just telling Scorpius everything so they could deal with the fallout and move on, but in the harsh light of a new day, he quickly dismissed that idea. Absolutely no one would benefit from him revealing his feelings—feelings that he still wasn’t one hundred percent certain of himself. There was no point in ruining a perfectly good friendship—his  _ only _ friendship—by spilling unnecessary emotions everywhere. Scorpius clearly wasn’t interested in him like that, and it would just make things weird if he admitted that ‘ _ I’ve realised the faceless body I’ve been jerking off to in the shower is you _ ’. No one would want to hear that. 

It would be hard, he knew, to pretend that everything was normal and that his whole world hadn’t been twisted onto its head, but he thought he could do it. He’d just have to be as supportive as fuck about Scorpius’ date with Mabel to cover up the fact that thinking about the two of them hanging out together, holding hands, kissing, and sharing secrets didn’t punch a hole right through his gut.

Scorpius confirmed his date with Mabel after breakfast, and Albus plastered on his best congratulatory smile when he came to tell him the ‘good news.’ It probably looked more like a pained grimace than anything even remotely cheery. He tried, though, and Scorpius didn’t comment so it can’t have looked too awful. 

He was actually quite proud of the speed at which he’d throttled his feelings and squashed them back down into the depths of his mind. It was a relief to know he could still pass as a good, supportive friend. Besides, it wasn’t like he could do anything about this… _ situation _ , so he didn’t want to wallow in self-pity and dwell on things he couldn’t control any more than necessary. 

The most difficult part about the whole ‘inconvenient feelings’ thing, Albus realised, was that he had no one to talk to about any of it. Usually, whenever he had a problem or something weighed on his mind, Scorpius was the one person he confided in. Now, he was the one person he couldn’t. He sighed and kicked a crumpled piece of parchment across the floor, flicking up a middle finger at a stuffy portrait that had the audacity to tut at him. 

“Are you okay? You’ve been quiet all morning. More than usual, I mean, which is quite some feat,” Scorpius said with a knowing grin as he nudged Albus with his shoulder. They were slowly walking towards the greenhouses after having grabbed their books from the dungeons. “Is this because of Mabel?” he continued when Albus said nothing.

“No, just, I didn’t sleep very well. Dunno why,” Albus replied with a shrug. It was starting to feel like Mabel was all they talked about, and he very much wanted to escape the conversation before it could start.

“I can still cancel, if you like?” Scorpius offered. Before Albus could answer, however, he stopped in the middle of the corridor and grabbed his upper arms excitedly, his face suddenly too close. “Oooh! I know! Maybe we can ask Mabel if she has any single friends? We could double date!” His face lit up as he spoke. Albus almost didn’t have the heart to tell him  _ no _ because he knew Scorpius would look at him like he’d told him a beloved childhood pet had died. Nothing could make him agree to a double date with Scorpius and Mabel, though.

“Fuck no! I’m fine. Really _.  _ Please don’t try and set me up with anyone,” Albus grumbled.

“Okay…if you’re sure? I hate to think of you being a grump all on your lonesome.”

“I won’t be alone! I have other friends,” Albus huffed. “Besides, I need to get some Christmas shopping done, and it’ll be much easier without you dragging me to a different stall every time something sparkly catches your eye. You’re a nightmare to shop with.”

“Oh. Okay. It’s worked out very well for you, then. I’ll try not to bother you anymore,” Scorpius said with a sniff before lengthening his stride and pulling ahead.

Albus closed his eyes briefly and exhaled through his nose. So much for being supportive and not making things weird. He trotted to catch up with his friend. “Scorpius! Wait! I’m sorry!” he called. Damn Scorpius and his gangly, long legs.

The rest of the week passed slightly more smoothly, although judging by the looks Scorpius kept throwing him, Albus was fairly certain he wasn’t doing the best job at acting normal. Thankfully, Scorpius chose not to pick him up on it but didn’t mention Mabel or Hogsmeade again—and Albus was eternally grateful. He could tell Scorpius wanted to talk about it—that he was getting more and more nervous and excited the closer they got to Saturday—but Albus stuffed that guilt down along with his inconvenient feelings.

He hoped that everything would go away if he just ignored it hard enough.


	8. Chapter 8

Saturday morning was bright and clear, continuing the mostly snow-free trend of the past week (a little had fallen overnight, but Albus didn’t count it as it hadn’t inconvenienced him in any way). There was still plenty of the white stuff everywhere since the temperature hadn’t once managed to drag itself beyond freezing, but at least it was confined to the ground and not falling from the sky. 

Albus lurked in the entrance hall with all the other students eagerly waiting for their permission slips to be checked before they could be released. Scorpius loitered ahead; he had agreed to meet Mabel here so they could walk to Hogsmeade together. Albus only knew about this because she’d accosted Scorpius at breakfast that morning to arrange it. He didn’t hang around to hear the details, making up some excuse about having to pop to the library before dashing off. Now he was reduced to skulking in the background, watching his best friend chat awkwardly with an objectively pretty girl, while wishing he was in her position. 

At least Scorpius looked uncomfortable. With any luck, he’d have an awful time.

Filch waved Scorpius and Mabel through the doors by, and Albus pushed through the crowd to get to the front of the queue. He’d told Scorpius he would head into Hogsmeade after doing some homework—they had arranged to meet after lunch—but after seeing Scorpius and Mabel interact at breakfast, something compelled him to follow them. He told himself it was just because he was concerned for Scorpius—he looked so awkward and nervous, so what sort of best friend would he be if he didn’t keep an eye on him to make sure he was okay? But if he was being honest…well, he wasn’t sure exactly what he was trying to achieve by spying on Scorpius, but that wasn’t going to stop him.

The path to Hogsmeade had been cleared of snow and ice. The village itself, however, was much more treacherous as ice, slush, and snow all conspired to turn the footpath into an ice rink. Surprisingly, Albus managed to both stay upright and keep Scorpius in sight the whole time without outing himself. He loitered outside of shops when they entered and trailed behind them while they window-shopped. It was all very tame as far as he could see; there had been no hand-holding, no overly flirtatious behaviour, and definitely no kissing. In fact, there had barely even been any talking. They looked more like two casual acquaintances being forced to hang out together rather than potential boyfriend and girlfriend. 

_ Ha! Good luck stealing him from me _ , Albus thought smugly, knowing Scorpius was much more touchy-feely with him. 

After a couple of hours of aimless wandering with a side of shopping, Scorpius and Mabel ducked into Madam Puddifoot’s Tea Shop. 

Albus’ heart sank. He hadn’t realised a trip to the ‘couples’ cafe was planned—was this Scorpius’ doing or Mabel’s? People never went to Madam Puddifoot’s unless they were dating or wanted to date the person they went with—it was an unwritten rule of Hogwarts!—so why was Scorpius going there with Mabel? Maybe the date was going better than it seemed.

Albus sighed heavily, settling down on the wall opposite the cafe—close enough that he could watch the entrance, but not so close that he could be spotted—and resolved to wait. It wasn’t like he had anything better to do (other than  _ all _ of his Christmas shopping). A sharp gust blew snow into his hair from an overhanging tree, and he shivered, turning up his collar and tugging the sleeves of his thick duffel coat down over his gloved fingers. All he needed now was for the snow to start up again, and the day would be bloody perfect. 

As if mocking him, a snowflake drifted past his face and landed on his boot, swiftly followed by several more.

“Bloody fuck,” Albus groaned.

“Talking to yourself again, Alby?” 

His head snapped up. Rose eyed him curiously, her lips quirked up in amusement. “Oh, fuck off,” he grumbled, “and don’t ever call me that again.”

Rose rolled her eyes and tutted. “Well, aren’t you a delight. What are you doing out here anyway? And where’s Scorpius? I almost didn’t recognise you without him at your side.”

“As if you don’t know,” Albus said with a scowl. He didn’t mean to snap at her, but he was cold, hungry, and abandoned, and there was nowhere else for his temper to vent. Luckily she was used to him and rarely took anything he said personally.

“Oh, right! He’s with Mabel. I thought he’d have scared her off by now.” She glanced across the road, then back at Albus; she looked as though she’d worked out why he was loitering. His face flushed with embarrassment as she offered him a patronising smile. “We’re headed to the Three Broomsticks for some lunch and a hot Butterbeer,” she said, indicating to the shivering Gryffindors behind her. “You should join us. You’ll catch your death sitting out here much longer; it looks like it’s starting to snow again, too.”

Albus spared the sickly pink entrance to Madam Puddifoot’s a last longing glance, then reluctantly hopped down from the wall. 

“Sure, I guess I could eat,” he mumbled. 

Rose grinned and looped her arm through his. “Fab! Mabel’s supposed to be meeting us there in a bit too, so I imagine she’ll drag Scorp along with her. You two will be reunited soon enough,” she said with a snigger, patting his arm as she lead him down the road.

 

* * *

 

Albus didn’t have to wait long for Scorpius to show up at the Three Broomsticks. Rose had miraculously secured them a table near the fire—a prime location on a cold winter’s day—and Albus nabbed the seat in the corner that allowed him the best view of the door. He then proceeded to nurse a deliciously creamy hot chocolate while he picked at a plate of chips and listened with half an ear to the conversations around him. He didn’t join in unless addressed directly. Rose seemed happy enough to let him stew in silence, so he didn’t feel too bad. He wasn’t good with social situations at the best of times, but especially not when his mind was on other things. 

Eventually, Mabel burst through the door in a flurry of snow and frigid air, a very harried-looking Scorpius not far behind. He scanned the pub with wild eyes; when he caught sight of Albus in the corner, a broad grin spread across his face. Albus got up, ignoring the rest of the table and met Scorpius halfway. 

“Hey,” Scorpius said breathlessly. He smelt like cinnamon, cupcakes, and outside, and his hair was tousled from the wind and snow. The tip of his nose was pink from the cold, and Albus fought the urge to kiss it. 

“Hey,” he replied softly. “So…how was it?” he asked, though unsure if he really wanted to know the answer.

Scorpius shrugged, sparing a guilty glance over Albus’ shoulder at Rose’s table. “Eh, it was okay. I’m not sure what all the fuss is about, to be honest.”

“Fuss?”

“You know, girls. Dating. That sort of stuff. It’s all a bit anticlimactic if you ask me.” 

_ DATE ME! _ shouted the voice in Albus’ head, but out loud, he said; “Maybe you just need to date the right person.”

“Yes, maybe. I guess it’s a bit soon to write off dating completely,” he said with a soft smile that felt like it was meant for Albus alone. 

The rest of the pub’s patrons faded into obscurity, and Albus could quite happily have drowned in Scorpius’ silver eyes right then. He was pinned under the weight of that gaze. This…crush, or whatever, was getting out of hand.

“Hey,” Scorpius said, breaking the spell that had frozen Albus in place. The noise and bustle of the pub rushed back as suddenly as it had disappeared. “I know it’s snowing, and you hate it with a passion, but I’ve just spent the last hour sat in a stuffy cafe eating froofy pink cupcakes and drinking hideously sweet tea, so do you mind if we go for a mooch around the shops?”

Albus grinned. “I think I can put up with a bit of snow for you,” he said, relieved that he had his friend back all to himself. “Come on, I had a brilliant idea about what we could get for Rose, and we should go to Uncle George’s shop to see if we can get any freebies.”

They exited the pub without a backward glance, and Albus didn’t even care that he got a face-full of snow when he stepped through the door.

 

* * *

 

Albus and Scorpius wandered around the shops until the sun began to sink below the horizon. They bought presents for others, sweets for themselves, and spent far too long in the new Hogsmeade branch of  _ Weasleys’ Wizard Wheezes _ testing out the new stock and making the most of their ‘friends and family’ discount. 

Albus was exhausted. He was pretty sure he couldn’t feel his fingers any more, but he couldn’t be happier. His current good mood may have been helped along by the vast quantity of sugar he’d consumed, or perhaps by those dodgy looking  _ Wheezes _ his Uncle Ron had given him, but the knowledge that Scorpius wasn’t about to abandon him for a girl definitely played a large part.

As the light fell, they giddily made their way back towards the school, weighed down by their numerous purchases. It was slow going because of all the ice and snow on the footpath, but they both managed to stay upright despite skidding several times. At least it was no longer snowing; Albus wasn’t sure he could handle getting lost in another blizzard.

“Snow angels!” Scorpius cried out, while Albus was in the middle of explaining the plot to a Muggle television show he’d watched over the summer.

“What?”

“Snow angels!” Scorpius repeated, as if this clarified anything. “We’ve not made any yet!”

“Okay…I’m not sure I see the problem,” Albus replied cautiously. It sounded a lot like Scorpius was going to force him to play in the snow—had he not learnt his lesson?

“We should make some now!”

“But…but…why?” Albus didn’t need to be a seer to know there was no way this would end well.

“It’s an integral part of snow-play! I can’t believe we’ve not done it yet. I’m really letting the side down.”

“What side?”

“The snow lovers side! You’re a snow hater, but I’m slowly converting you—I can  _ feel _ it. Now, come on. We need to find the perfect patch of snow, or it won’t work.” Scorpius grabbed him by the hand and Albus didn’t really have much choice but to follow him. 

Scorpius dragged them from the footpath in his quest to find ‘perfect’ snow angel conditions, and the chatter of other students fell away the farther they strayed. The heavy clouds had blown away over the course of the afternoon, and the not-quite-full moon provided enough light to see by. 

Albus was uneasy about their proximity to the forest. The sound of crisp snow crunching underfoot seemed unnaturally loud in the stillness of the night, and Albus swore he could feel the eyes of various forest-dwellers tracking their movement.

“Shouldn’t we start heading back?” Albus asked. A suspicious-looking rock loomed off to the left; he eyed it nervously. “It must be getting close to curfew.”

“Don’t tell me you’re scared. Where’s that signature ‘Potter’ bravery?”

“James and Lily inherited it all. Unfortunately, I was stuck with the brains,” he replied blandly. “And for the record, I’m  _ not _ scared, I just don’t want detention.”

“We’ve got loads of time! Don’t be such a worrywart,” Scorpius said, giving him a playful shove.

Albus sighed heavily but didn’t resist when Scorpius continued to drag him through the snow. He gazed longingly at the castle in the distance; most of the windows were lit up with a warm, yellow glow. Everyone inside was probably cosy and dry, snuggled into fleecy pyjamas or huddled around fireplaces. What he wouldn’t give to be in bed right now, curled into Scorpius’ side, head pillowed on his chest, Gran’s homemade blanket wrapped around them…

“Aha!” Scorpius exclaimed, ripping Albus from his daydream. “This will do nicely!”

Albus looked at the patch of snow before them, which happened to look exactly like every other inch of snow they’d traipsed across, and glared at Scorpius.

“Right, so to make snow angels, you need to—”

“I know how to make a bloody snow angel, Scorp.”

“Fine. Have at it then!” With that, Scorpius flung himself onto his back, snow crystals billowing out like a cloud from beneath him as he landed with a muffled  _ flumpf _ . 

Albus shook his head and smiled at the sight of Scorpius looking so gleeful on his back, arms and legs moving up and down across the snow to carve out his wings. Before giving Scorpius a reason to cajole him further, Albus followed suit and flopped beside him, sprawling out on his back like a woollen, four-armed starfish. A laugh tumbled from his lips at the thought of what he and Scorpius must look like to anyone who happened upon them, and it was quickly picked up by Scorpius. In no time at all, they were both crying with laughter.

Once the laughter subsided, Scorpius insisted he could do better; Albus refused to be second best. They tried to outdo each other, resulting in the creation of an army of snow angels. Like generals, they surveyed their work, hands planted on their hips, with compacted snow clinging to their hats and scarves and coats. 

“It looks creepy,” Albus said after a short while, shivering in the frosty air. “It’s like an angel graveyard or something.”

“Oh, yeah, you’re right. Do you think they’ll come to life like in that Muggle film you made me watch?”

“I think that’s only snowmen. And women. Snow people. And I think it’s only at Christmas. Santa Claus magic or something like that.”

“Muggles believe some weird things.”

“I don’t think anyone over the age of five seriously believes Santa gives life to their snow people, you prat. It’s just a kid’s story.”

“Ohhh, I get it,” Scorpius replied, frowning. Albus suspected he didn’t actually ‘ _ get it _ ’. “That one over there on the right looks sinister. I think it’s one of yours. Look, the skirt is all lopsided and the arm-wing thing is crooked. How did you even do that?”

Albus squinted at it. “It’s not one of mine,” he said.

“Well it’s not mine,” Scorpius retorted, clearly scandalised at the implication that the sub-standard angel was his.

“Then whose is it?”

“I don’t…”

“Shit, did you see that?” Albus grabbed Scorpius’ arm.

Scorpius yelped. “What? Did I see what?” 

“It moved! The angel moved!”

“What?!” Scorpius scanned the scene with a panicked expression.

“Run!” shouted Albus, grabbing his shopping bags and pelting away from the snow angel graveyard as fast as he could. Behind him, Scorpius squealed and chased after him.

Albus ran for a good five minutes, the cold air stinging his face as he covered ground as quickly as he could manage in the snow. His sedentary lifestyle quickly caught up with him, though, and he had to stop before his legs gave up completely.

“Oh, my god,” Albus said breathlessly, clutching his sides as he stumbled to a stop, “you should have seen your face!”

“What?” Scorpius skidded to a stop beside him, panting as he peered in the direction they’d come from.

“You seriously thought a ‘sinister’ snow angel just appeared? And moved?” Albus asked with a shaky grin.

Scorpius stared at him in confusion for a moment, and then his face fell as he realised he’d been tricked. “Albus! You absolute pig!” he cried. “I thought something had escaped the forest to toy with us!” He surged forward, and Albus spun around to get away from him, laughing hard. “I hate you! You bastard! I’m going to—Argh!” 

At Scorpius’ cry, Albus turned and saw his friend face down in the snow. The laughter died on his lips when he heard Scorpius’ moan and realised he was writhing in pain rather than embarrassment.

“Scorp? What happened? Are you okay?” he asked, rushing to Scorpius’ side.

“Owww. It’s my ankle. Something snapped or cracked. It hurts!” Scorpius whimpered.

“Shit! That’s…shit. What do we do? Can you walk on it?”

“I don’t know…I think…” Scorpius tried to push himself up, his fingers digging into the snow but didn’t get very far before he cried out again. “No! I can’t walk on it!”

Panic clawed at Albus’ chest—he needed a plan, but he wasn’t a ‘plan’ person. Scorpius was the one who worked well under pressure, not him! “Umm, okay…Balls. I don’t know any healing spells. Do you know any?”

“No! Al, it hurts so much! Please, do something. Anything!” Scorpius whined.

Albus knelt down in the snow beside him, wincing as the cold immediately seeped through his trousers. He leant forward to take a closer look at Scorpius’ ankle, but he had no idea what good it would do—he mostly just wanted to be seen doing  _ something _ so he could continue panicking in silence. Scorpius whimpered softly over his shoulder, and when Albus glanced back, tears were running down his friend’s face.

“Okay. Okay okay okay. Think.” He sat back on his heels and tapped his clenched fist against his forehead, as if this would encourage his brain to jump start. “We need to get to the infirmary,” he declared, proud to have come up with an idea, no matter how lacking in details it was.

Scorpius gaped at him, which was not the reaction Albus had been expecting. “I  _ know _ that, but how? I can’t walk!”

“Oh, um…I could try carrying you…” Scorpius’ expression shifted from disbelief to horror so rapidly that Albus hastily added, “…or you could lean on my shoulder?” 

“I can’t hop all the way to school—it’s too far.”

“Oh, maybe I could levitate you?”

“Absolutely not! I saw what happened to that chest of drawers you levitated in Charms the other day. It took Flitwick ages to get it back down.”

“Okay…I guess I can run back to school and get someone?” Albus really hoped this wouldn’t be the winning idea, but he needn’t have worried.

Scorpius flopped back onto the snow, burying his face in his hands. “Oh, Merlin. I’m going to die out here,” he wailed

“Well, do you have any better ideas?” Albus snapped. He pressed both hands to his head, knocking his hat to the ground in the process, and took a deep breath to calm himself down. “I’m sorry, okay? I don’t know what to do! You know I’m useless in an emergency. I—” 

There was a muffled crunch a short distance away, like the sound of a thick, wet branch snapping in two. Albus snapped his mouth shut and whipped his head around to scan the tree line, realising they were much closer to the forest than he’d thought. A few more cracks and rustles rung out in the night; the noises growing louder as whatever it was drew closer. It sounded an awful lot like something large and heavy was pushing its way through the thick undergrowth. Albus’ self-preservation instincts screamed at him to run, but he couldn’t leave Scorpius injured and alone. He gripped Scorpius’ shoulder, which trembled beneath his hand. They both stared in stunned silence at the trees, waiting to face whatever beast was approaching to eat them.

After what felt like hours, an animal crashed out of the undergrowth—large and black, and panting loudly as it bounded across the snow. This was followed moments later by an even larger, hairier beast. Albus held his wand out, ready to hit the creatures with a  _ Stupefy _ as soon as his wand hand stopped shaking…but then one of the beasts spoke, and all of Albus’ terror and panic fled at once.

“Wha’s goin’ on? Who’s there? Albus? Scorpius? Is that you?”

“Hagrid!” cried both boys in relief.

Scorpius flopped onto his back. Albus nearly did the same him. The only thing that stopped him was the thought of getting snow inside his clothes. He laughed as Fang Two wuffed softly and nuzzled his hand with a frosty nose.

“What’re ye doin’ out ‘ere at this time ‘o night, boys?” Hagrid asked as he loomed above them. It was hard to make out his face at this distance in the dark, but Albus thought he sounded concerned rather than angry. 

Albus glanced at Scorpius to see if he was going to answer, but his friend was lying on his back with his eyes screwed shut, breathing like a woman in the late stages of labour (Albus had watched a documentary once at Rose’s house and had never been more glad of his lack of a womb).

“Um, we…we were on our way back to school from Hogsmeade, and then Scorp tripped. I think he’s broken his ankle!” Albus blurted. He didn’t think there was any need to go into details.

“D’ye get lost? It’s a bit late fer two young lads to be wanderin’ the grounds,” Hagrid said as he bent low to inspect Scorpius’ leg. “Come on then. Yeh can come warm up at mine an’ we can get a message to Poppy that young Malfoy ‘ere needs a lookin’ at.” He leant forward, and for a horrifying second, Albus thought he was going to crush Scorpius with his huge hands. Hagrid gingerly scooped the injured boy up in his arms, carefully minding his ankle. Albus never failed to be amazed by how gentle he was for someone with hands capable of crushing most people’s bones to dust.

Hagrid’s cabin smelt a bit like a sour stable with a hint of roast meat and something sweet that Albus couldn’t put his finger on, but it was cosy and warm, which was the important thing. Hagrid set the two of them up on a large threadbare sofa, which he dragged out from a corner so as to be closer to the fire. He then pulled a blanket off his bed and wrapped it around them. The material was thick and heavy, and it seemed to be made entirely from patches of fabric in different patterns, materials, shapes, and sizes. Whether this was part of the original design, or just that it was a well-loved blanket that had been mended more times than he could count, Albus had no idea. All that mattered was that it was warm, if a bit musty smelling. Scorpius’ leg stuck out from the blanket in front of them, elevated on a stool. 

“I’m no expert, of course, but it don’t look broken. Probably jus’ a nasty sprain. You’ll be right as rain in no time,” Hagrid said after taking a closer look at Scorpius’ ankle. “I’ll send an owl up to Poppy so as she knows to be expecting you, but in the meantime, either of you fancy some hot chocolate? I was jus’ heatin’ up some milk when Fang Two heard yeh both hollerin’ outside.”

Albus turned to check what Scorpius wanted to do, since he was the one supposedly at death’s door, and was pleased to see the other boy nodding his head enthusiastically. He’d calmed down a lot since their rescue, so Albus hoped Hagrid was right, and that it was just a nasty sprain. Hagrid’s hot chocolate was legendary, so he was glad they didn’t have to dash off.

The hot chocolate was as delicious as he remembered it, and Albus greedily drained his mug in no time at all. Afterwards, he felt sleepy and full, snuggled under the blanket with Scorpius tucked into his side, the fire casting flickering shadows all around them. Hagrid pottered around his cabin, chatting about this and that. Albus didn’t know if he was talking to them or Fang Two, but either way, he didn’t seem to be expecting answers, so he let the deep voice wash over him, soothing him into a light doze.

“I’m sorry I messed up our snow fun again,” Scorpius said quietly, dropping his head onto Albus’ shoulder and startling him back to full consciousness.

“You didn’t mess up anything, Scorp. If anything, it was my fault for scaring you,” Albus replied just as softly.

“And I’m sorry for the whole Mabel thing. I knew you didn’t like her much, but I still went with her to Hogsmeade.” 

Albus frowned and tried to look at Scorpius, but he kept his head on Albus’ shoulder and his gaze fixed on the flames dancing in the fireplace. 

“It’s fine, really. You’re allowed to date who you like. You don’t need my permission or even my approval.”

Scorpius huffed out a breath but didn’t reply. He didn’t seem happy, though. Albus fumbled under the blanket until he found Scorpius’ hand, then took it in his and squeezed. “Are you okay? Shall I ask Hagrid if we can head back up to the castle?”

Scorpius twisted his hand in Albus’ and laced their fingers together. “I’m good. Let’s stay a little longer,” he said, huddling closer against Albus’ side. He draped his free arm across Albus’ chest and twisted his body to face Albus’ as much as he could with his injured ankle on the stool.

He shifted and reluctantly released Scorpius’ hand so he could wrap his arm around him and hug him closer. Scorpius hummed happily at the action, so Albus, feeling emboldened, rested his cheek on the top of Scorpius hair and gently rubbed circles into Scorpius’ side with his thumb. The low lighting and crackling of the fire lent a romantic, intimate feeling to the moment, despite the pungent odour and the sound of Hagrid working away at his kitchen table. Albus breathed in deeply and tried not to get carried away. He knew Scorpius was just tired and sore and seeking comfort from the nearest available source; he  _ knew _ it didn’t mean anything, but he couldn’t help but hope… 

Albus had just started to doze again when Fang Two lifted his head off the rug, ears pricked, and barked loudly. All eyes in the hut fixed on the door, and moments later, there was a loud knock.

“Hagrid? HAGRID! Are you in there?  _ HAGRID _ !” 

Albus sprung away from Scorpius at the sound of the raised voice, roughly shoving Scorpius aside in the process. The door rattled as someone pounded on the other side, and Fang Two’s booming bark filled the cabin with noise. Hagrid appeared unaffected by the urgency of the voice and muttered under his breath as he slowly got up to answer the door. 

“All right, all right. Keep yer ‘air on,” Hagrid said, scratching behind Fang Two’s ear as he passed. “Looks like your Father’s got wind of your presence here, Scorpius.”

Scorpius paled and shrunk back into the chair as a wild-eyed Draco stormed through the door as soon as Hagrid unlatched it. “Hagrid! I demand to know—Scorpius! My baby boy! What are you doing here? Why are you not in the infirmary?” Draco surged forward the instant he spotted his son and started patting him down, running his hands and his eyes all over him to check for damage. Scorpius quickly became irritated by the fuss and batted his dad’s hands away, forcing him to take a step back.

“Oh! So  _ now _ you come looking for me, but when we’re lost in a blizzard, and I’m turning into a living Scorpcicle, you’re nowhere to be found!” Scorpius yelled. Albus had never seen him get so riled so quickly and wondered whether there was more going on than he was aware of. It wasn’t like Scorpius to snap at his Dad, or anyone.

“You’re turning into a  _ what _ ? When were you lost in a blizzard?” Under the force of his dad’s glare, Scorpius snapped his mouth shut, his anger fizzling out as quickly as it had appeared.

“Um, not relevant! Doesn’t matter!” Scorpius rushed out in one breath.

Albus was so focused on the frantic back and forth between father and son, he didn’t even notice his own father standing sheepishly in the doorway until Hagrid called out his name.

“’Arry! Didn’t know you was ‘ere fer a visit. Things still going well, then? Can’t say I understand what you see in—”

“Lovely to see you too, Hagrid!” Harry interrupted. “It’s only a flying visit. I was going to pop in and see you before I left tomorrow, but as you can see, circumstances have forced my hand,” he finished with a nervous chuckle.

Albus frowned as he watched his father shuffle nervously at the edge of the room—it seemed like he was trying to avoid Albus’ eye. Albus was still annoyed that his ‘moment’ with Scorpius had been disturbed, but this irritation was slowly being diluted by his confusion at his dad’s strange behaviour and his presence at Hogwarts yet again. He seemed to be at school more than not these days.

“Hi, Dad. How come you’re here again?” Albus asked, forcing his dad to look at him. Harry edged further into the room, one hand in his pocket, the other scratching blunt-nailed fingers through his unruly hair. Albus hated that he recognised himself in the movement.

“Um, just visiting a—”

“—friend, yes. You said that before.” Albus stood, the blanket dropping to the floor, and stepped around the sofa to face his dad. He folded his arms across his chest and waited to see what he had to say for himself. There wasn’t much between their heights these days, but Albus longed for the day when he didn’t have to tilt his head up to glare at his Dad. 

“Look, Albus,” his dad started, placing a hand on Albus’ shoulder, “there’s something I need to speak to you about, but not now, okay? Later. Tomorrow, perhaps?”

Albus shrugged dismissively. “I don’t know. I have a lot of homework.”

“Please, Al. I’d love to spend some quality time with you—it feels like we barely talk these days. Come to Professor Malfoy’s private quarters at lunch, and we can catch up.”

“Professor Malfoy’s private quarters? What—”

Albus wasn’t able to finish asking his question because Draco chose that moment to round everyone up and herd them out of Hagrid’s hut. Apparently, it was high time Scorpius received some proper medical attention rather than being plied with hot chocolate and cakes. Albus trailed behind as his dad and Draco levitated Scorpius ahead of them on a Transfigured stretcher. 

He was too busy replaying in his head that brief time earlier when he had Scorpius hugged tightly to his side. He was so preoccupied, he barely even put up any protest at all when Pomfrey shooed him out of the infirmary. He bid his dad and Draco goodnight before heading down to bed.


	9. Chapter 9

The next day, Albus approached Professor Malfoy’s private quarters with no small measure of trepidation. Scorpius offered to accompany him, but against his better judgement, Albus declined. He instantly regretted the decision upon seeing the hurt and disappointment flash across Scorpius’ face, but he kept to his original plan. His dad had been quite insistent that they catch up alone, and even though he wanted to pretend otherwise, the curiosity was eating him up. He was desperate to know what his Dad had to say, so he bid Scorpius goodbye with a promise to let him know everything that happened later that afternoon.

He’d never had much reason to visit Draco’s private quarters before. There had been the odd occasion when Scorpius had needed to pick up something or wanted to ask his father a question. Usually, they just accosted him in the Great Hall during meal times or in his office, which was conveniently located near the Slytherin common room. Even so, it felt strange to be heading there alone, and stranger still to know it was his own dad he was meeting. 

His mind raced to work out what this lunch was supposed to be about. His Dad had literally never asked to meet him for lunch at school—he hadn’t even visited outside of turning up for some of James’ Quidditch matches—but now it felt like he was here every weekend. Would Draco be at the meal, too? Or Lily? He kicked himself for not thinking to ask his sister if she’d noticed their dad acting strangely.

The thud of his knuckles connecting with the wooden door sounded too loud in the empty corridor. Most of the school were either occupied with lunch or were outside in the snow. 

Albus grimaced. He was  _ so _ over snow. It baffled him how Scorpius could still be enthusiastic about the stuff when all it seemed to do was try and get them killed.

“Al, hi, come in!” said his dad, pulling the door open and motioning for Albus to step into the room. He was wearing an old, worn pair of jeans and a rather shapeless jumper, and he looked happier than Albus could remember him looking in a long while.

He grunted a hello and pushed past his dad, peering at his surroundings. It was cosier that he’d expected—the furniture looked worn and comfortable, the walls lined with bookshelves that were overladen with books and trinkets. He recognised some of Scorpius’ artwork on the wall from when it had been pinned to the kitchen cupboards at the Malfoys’ home, and there were several pictures of Scorpius at various ages, beaming and waving and generally looking thrilled with life. 

“He’s a lovely boy. I’m glad you have a friend like him in your life.” Albus blinked and turned to his dad, having momentarily forgotten he was there. He felt his face flush, as if he’d been caught doing something naughty.

“I…yes, he’s, um, great,” Albus spluttered, turning his attention to the coffee table, which was weighed down with plates of sandwiches and pasties and veggies and dips. There was even a tube of salt and vinegar Pringles, and Albus grinned, knowing his Dad had brought them especially for him—his love of the snack was well known within the family. “Thanks, Dad,” he said grabbing the tube, popping it open, and pulling out a small stack of crisps.

“No problem.” His dad moved around the coffee table and sat on the sofa, folding one leg underneath the other as he made himself comfortable. “I thought I might as well bring you your favourite snack since I’m forcing you to have this lunch in the first place.” 

Albus hummed noncommittally, too busy savouring the tangy taste of the crisps as he sucked the flavour off them to give a proper response. He perched beside his dad and looked at him expectantly, wondering whether he was actually going to bring up the reason for the lunch, or if they were going to do their usual thing of avoiding the issue until the last possible second.

There were a few minutes of awkward silence as his dad munched on a cheese and pickle sandwich, but then he cleared his throat.

“So, ah, you might have noticed that I’ve been visiting Hogwarts more than usual lately…”

Albus stared blankly at him. It suddenly struck him that he knew exactly where this was headed, but rather than let his dad off the hook, he settled back, tube of Pringles clutched to his chest, and watched him squirm. 

“Right, so, well…” Harry shifted on the sofa, un-tucking and re-tucking his leg, brushing a few stray crumbs off his trousers, running his hand through his hair, before he stilled and faced Albus. With an earnest expression, he said, “After your mother left, I didn’t know what I wanted for a long time. I’d been a father and a husband and a friend and an uncle, but I didn’t really know who  _ I _ was any more. But then recently…well, I guess it’s been building for years, really, but that’s beside the point. Anyway, recently Draco and I have become closer, and, well, I suppose you could say we’re, um, dating.”

Albus froze, a Pringle halfway to his mouth. It was one thing to know the admission was coming, it was another thing entirely to hear it spoken out loud.

“Obviously, this changes nothing about how much I love you, James, and Lily. And your mother will always be very important to me, so…Are you…Are you okay? You’re not saying anything.” Harry leant forward and placed a hand on his knee.

“I…Yes, I’m fine. I just…I knew it was coming, but it’s weird to hear you say it.”

Harry straightened and stared at him in disbelief. “You knew? Why didn’t you say something? I’ve been agonising for months about how to tell you!”

“Because I didn’t  _ know _ know until just now, but…I don’t know, I mean, it kind of makes sense.” Albus shrugged. He knew what he meant, but it was hard to put it into words. While it was definitely weird to think of his dad being involved romantically with anyone, he and Draco just…made sense.

“Oh, that’s good. I think.” Harry scratched his stubbled jaw, looking vaguely confused and maybe a bit deflated. “I suppose I was expecting a bit more shouting. You’re really okay with it though?” 

“Yeah, I guess. It’s your life. Have you told James and Lil?”

“Er, no, not yet, so keep it to yourself for now if you can. I thought you should know first, since you and Scorpius are so close, and he’s Scorpius’ dad.”

Albus blanched at the mention of Scorpius, the full implications of their dads’ relationship only just occurring to him. Would this mean they would become brothers? It wasn’t like he actually expected anything would happen between them, but if it did…wasn’t that, like, incest or something? He suddenly felt quite sick.

“Al? Are you sure you’re okay?”

This was his chance to tell someone his secret. His dad would know what to do—he was Harry fucking Potter, helping people was his thing, even if that person happened to be his potentially deviant son. But then he looked into his dad’s bright green eyes, so much like his own, and he couldn’t do it. The words stuck in his throat, and he shook his head, smiling weakly.

“I’m fine. Felt a bit sick, but it’s passed. Think I’m just hungry.”

For a heartbeat, Harry eyed him suspiciously, but then he smiled and reached out to ruffle Albus’ hair. “Best get eating then. And not just Pringles. Here.” He nudged a plate of ham and mustard sandwiches towards him.

“So, tell me, why is my snow-hating son spending so much of this recent wintry period outside?” his dad asked, clumsily changing the subject, but Albus was immensely grateful he hadn’t tried to push him further.

“Well,” he started, grabbing a sandwich and settling back in the sofa, “it all started…”

 

* * *

 

Albus felt slightly nauseous as he headed back to the dungeon, and he didn’t think it was just the whole tube of Pringles he’d demolished. He had been so close to confessing his secret but chickened out at the last minute. He knew that if he told anyone, he would no longer be able to ignore his feelings and pretend they didn’t exist. His dad would want to  _ talk _ and would tell him to talk to  _ Scorpius _ , and then everything would be ruined.

As soon as Albus stepped into the dormitory, Scorpius leapt off his bed and bounded up to him like an over-enthusiastic, lanky-legged puppy. 

“You will NEVER guess what Father just told me,” Scorpius cried, grabbing Albus by the shoulders and shaking him excitedly. He was grinning wildly and looked like he was about to burst.

“I bet I can,” Albus smirked. Scorpius deflated minutely, but then his face lit up again as he caught Albus’ eye.

Scorpius squealed. “Sweet Merlin. We’re going to be brothers! Actual, real brothers! Isn’t this the best news ever!? I’ve always wanted siblings, and now I get three!”

Albus felt his stomach sink. Brothers. Of  _ course _ Scorpius would focus on that. He swallowed the lump in his throat and tried to let Scorpius’ excitement sweep him along like it usually did. He couldn’t help the dark mood that hovered in the wings, though. He’d been so sure he was going to confess everything to Scorpius and now…How could he do it now when it was so clear that Scorpius would only ever see him as a brother.

 

* * *

 

The last week of school before Christmas was a blur of activity as every teacher piled on the homework, and conscientious students like Albus and Scorpius tried their hardest to do as much as possible before going home for the holidays. 

Albus also found out his dad had broken the news of his new relationship with Draco to his siblings. At breakfast one morning, Lily approached him and whacked him around the head for keeping such a juicy piece of gossip to himself, and then at lunch, he received a howler from James yelling pretty much the same thing. 

With everyone apparently on board and apparently unsurprised by the revelation, a combined Potter-Malfoy Christmas was hastily organised. This meant that Draco and Scorpius turned up at Grimmauld Place on the second day of the holidays and just didn’t leave. It worked surprisingly well, and even Teddy and Andromeda joined them after a few days. Albus loved when Teddy came over, not only because he was really cool and funny, but also because he always kept James occupied, doing whatever it was they got up to in James’ room together. 

Grimmauld Place was absolutely rammed, but for once, Albus didn’t mind the chaos. Harry let Scorpius have his pick of the spare rooms, saying it would be his whenever he visited, and he chose the one beside Albus’ despite it being the smaller of the available rooms. He thought it would be difficult being around Scorpius all Christmas—there wasn’t exactly anywhere he could hide if he wanted to avoid him—but things between them were as good, if not better, than they’d ever been. 

Scorpius thrived in the bustle of a busy, chaotic family. He was in his element, and his enthusiasm, as always, was catching. Albus found he smiled and joined in with family games much more readily with Scorpius around and he felt lighter and happier than he’d been in a while. It was always in the back of his mind that he should be honest with Scorpius and admit his feelings, but he was happy—more importantly, Scorpius was happy—so Albus didn’t want to ruin things. Instead, he kept his mouth shut and continued to avoid his feelings, stuffing them down where they couldn’t bother anyone. 

On Christmas day, the Potters plus Teddy and Andromeda headed to the Burrow while the Malfoys headed for a more subdued day with Lucius and Narcissa. Albus found it a little strange not having Scorpius with him, but there was little opportunity to sulk since there were so many cousins, aunties, and uncles filling every corner of the house. 

Albus usually hung out with Rose at family gatherings, but for some reason, she was cold towards him. Her attitude worried him initially, but when he mentioned something about it to James, he brushed it off as being to do with ‘ _ girl problems _ ’ ( _ ”You know, time of the month, on the blob, sailing down the red river, surfing the crimson wave, a visit from Aunt Flo—” Albus kicked James in the shin and ran away with his hands over his ears at that point, then spent the rest of the day scowling at his brother _ ), so Albus tried not to let it upset him. It wasn’t like they were even particularly close any more, although she’d never before gone so far as to leave a room when he entered.

Without Rose to hang out with, Albus mostly wandered between family members, answering questions when asked, but generally just listening in and nodding when appropriate. When that got too boring, he played a few rounds of exploding snap with Lily and Hugo until they abandoned him to play Quidditch with some other cousins. At a loose end, he went to hide in his room. He was sharing with James and Teddy in Ron’s old room, but it was still early so he knew the room would be free—Teddy and James were probably playing Quidditch with everyone else. He hoped to grab a couple of hours of peace with a book before someone dragged him downstairs to have ‘fun’.

He wandered slowly up to the top of the house; not in any particular hurry, just glad to be completely by himself for a change. It had been a pretty full on Christmas so far, and he hadn’t really had any time to himself. The voices grew quieter the higher he climbed, and before long, all he could hear was the creaking of the house and the occasional peal of laughter from below or a shout from one of the Quidditch players outside. 

Tension he hadn’t been aware of slipped from his shoulders, and he pushed on the door, stopping short when it wouldn’t budge. He gripped the handle to rattle it, when he heard a muffled thud from the other side of the door, followed by what sounded like a groan. He expected it was the attic ghoul, looking to cause trouble because it was feeling neglected. Frowning, he pulled out his wand and muttered  _ Alohomora. _

The door swung open without a sound, slowly revealing the room to Albus. The walls and rafters were still lined with Chudley Cannons posters (apparently anyone who tried to remove them turned Chudley Cannons orange), and there were still a lot of Ron’s old school things and childhood possessions stuffed onto the shelves, but Albus liked staying in here. Although he preferred it when he didn’t have to share with his brother, who snored, and his godbrother, who chatted non-stop. 

He stepped forward, intending to throw himself onto his bed, when there was another breathy moan. He spun around to where the sound had come from—and his jaw fell open in the same instant that his hands flew up to his face.

James and Teddy were very naked and very busy, and from his position, Albus had a perfect view of Teddy’s sweaty arse moving up and down as he pounded into James—which was not something he ever thought he’d see, or had ever  _ wanted _ to see. 

He was temporarily transfixed though, unable to tear his eyes away. He wasn’t a complete innocent—he’d seen more than one porn mag before, and he’d heard the other boys in his dorm talking about stuff. He’d never seen two men together, though, and it certainly was enlightening, despite it being his brother naked and writhing and groaning before him. 

His  _ brother _ .

“Jesus fuck! Oh god. My eyes!” Albus cried, shaking himself from his trance and covering his eyes. He turned so his back was towards the nakedness, and he wouldn’t be tempted to look again.  _ Oh fuck _ , he thought, feeling his dick start to take an interest, he was getting hard from watching his brother get fucked—weren’t there laws against this sort of thing? He squeezed his eyes shut behind his hands and willed his body to stop being so perverted.

“What the—” Teddy yelped, and Albus heard a loud thud and another yelp as one or both of them must have fallen to the floor. 

“Albus! What the fuck?” James yelled. “Don’t you knock?”

“No! Not to enter my own room, anyway! What the fuck is going on?” he asked, embarrassed by how shrill his voice sounded. The room felt too hot and smelt like arse and sweat. Albus desperately wanted to escape, but his legs wouldn’t comply. 

“What do you think?! Why aren’t you downstairs with everyone else?” James sounded annoyed. Albus wanted to glare at him, but there was no way he was risking another eyeful. There were some things he didn’t need to know about his brother, and what he looked like mid-shag was definitely one of them.

“I just wanted somewhere quiet to read my book,” he replied weakly. It sounded stupid and babyish to saying it out loud, especially considering the very adult situation he’d stumbled into.

“Well, bugger off and give us another half hour at least, then the room’s yours,” James snapped

“Jamie!” Teddy scolded. “Sorry Albus, he’s just being a moody, blue-balled git. Please don’t tell anyone about…about this, alright? We’re just…you know. Taking things, um, slow for now.”

“Yeah, yeah, whatever,” Albus muttered. He didn’t want to think too hard about what he’d have walked in on if this was apparently ‘ _ slow. _ ’ He shuffled out of the room, one hand still over his eyes to prevent accidental voyeurism. “Don’t jizz on my stuff, or I’m telling Dad. And open a bloody window—it stinks in here,” he said over his shoulder before slamming the door shut.

He kept walking until he had put two floors between himself and Ron’s old room, then he leant against the wall and slid to the floor, his head in his hands. He exhaled shakily. There was absolutely no way he could face his family yet. His skin felt too hot and tight, and the crotch of his trousers pressed uncomfortably against the most awkward and inconvenient erection he’d had the misfortune of suffering through. He was disgusted at himself for getting even slightly aroused by what he’d witnessed, but he couldn’t stop the scene from replaying in his head. 

He was jealous, he realised. Not of James or Teddy, but of what they had together. He wanted that with Scorpius. He wanted it so badly that it physically hurt—a crushing, suffocating pain that he felt within every cell of his body—and for a few minutes, he struggled to breathe.

Albus didn’t know how long he sat on the landing, trying to compose himself. He heard James and Teddy walk past at one point, whispering and giggling; maybe they tried talking to him, but he hadn’t paid them any attention. After a short while, the landing grew quiet again. 

Eventually, he heard the stairs creak as someone else headed up the stairs. He hoped they would turn into one of the bedrooms, but they kept walking along the corridor as it curled around the building. Albus didn’t look up. He hoped if he ignored them they would carry on towards their destination without bothering him, but his heart sank when he felt them sit beside him. He rolled his head to one side, peeking at the interloper without lifting his head from his knees, and wasn’t surprised to see his dad peering at him with a look of worry.

“Hey, everyone’s wondering where you got to,” Harry said.

Albus grunted. 

“You don’t have to tell me what’s wrong, but I’m always here if you ever need to talk.” Harry shifted closer and put an arm around Albus’ shoulders.

That was all it took. All the stress of ignoring his feelings, all the pain, all the jealousy broke through, and he was powerless to stop the tears spilling over and rolling down his cheeks. He buried his face in his dad’s shoulder and sobbed while his dad murmured soothing words into his hair and hugged him tightly. 

“Sorry,” Albus sniffled, pulling away from his dad once he felt a bit more in control of himself. He was mortified at having lost control so spectacularly and was amazed no one had come up to investigate the noise. He suspected his dad had probably waved any curious eyes away.

“What are you sorry for? You’ve no reason to be sorry. I won’t pretend to have any idea what you’re going through, but I realise you’re working through something at the moment. Please talk to me if you need to, okay? I know you like to keep things to yourself, but sometimes it really is best to share your problems. I won’t judge you, whatever it is.”

“I’m in love with Scorpius,” Albus blurted, staring resolutely at a dent in the opposite wall and wringing his hands together. He didn’t want to see the look of disappointment or disgust or pity on his Dad’s face following his confession. “I’m completely and ridiculously in love with my best friend, and he just sees me as a brother. And now you and his Dad are…What if you get married? We actually  _ will _ be brothers! And then I’ll be in love with my brother!”

“You’re…? Oh. Oh, Al,” his Dad said softly, pulling him in for a hug. “Firstly, whatever happens with me and Draco has no impact whatsoever on your relationship with Scorpius.” 

Albus sniffed and wiped his face with a soggy sleeve. He’d been expecting a negative reaction, so his dad’s concerned support was confusing. “Secondly?” he prompted.

“Secondly, and most importantly—have you spoken to Scorpius about this?”

Albus hunched over his knees and groaned. He  _ KNEW _ that his dad would say this. “No! I don’t want to lose him as a friend. I can’t lose him, Dad. I’d rather have him as just a friend than nothing at all.”

Harry sighed. “Look, I can’t force you to do anything, but if your feelings for Scorpius are as strong as you think they are, you owe it to yourself to speak to him. Explain how you feel. He’s a good kid, and he clearly thinks the world of you, so I can’t imagine him being anything other than understanding.”

“But if—no,  _ when _ , he doesn’t feel the same way, it’s going to be awkward as hell,” Albus pouted.

“Yes, probably, for a bit, but I believe your friendship is strong enough to weather a bit of awkwardness. If you say nothing, though, how will you feel a week, a month, a year down the line? Could you live with the ‘what-ifs’?”

Albus huffed and stared forlornly at the dent in the wall again. He knew his dad was right; he had to talk to Scorpius. The  _ Mabel _ incident taught him that he did not handle jealousy well, and if there was any chance Scorpius reciprocated his feelings, he owed it to them both to say something...but how did anyone go about starting a conversation like that? 

“So, um, while I’ve got you here, have you noticed anything… _ odd _ …about James and Teddy?” his dad asked.

“Er, no? Both still as idiotic as always. Why?”

“No reason…Just, call it fatherly intuition. I’d put money on those two being up to something…”

Albus snorted, privately wondering how much he could extract from his brother in exchange for his silence. At least the scheming might take his mind off his own problems for a bit.


	10. Chapter 10

Albus felt much more positive on the train ride back to school. Following his minor breakdown in his dad’s arms, he successfully managed to repress both his feelings  _ and _ the trauma of having seen his brother getting shagged. He was confident he could survive anything school could throw at him after all that. It probably wasn’t healthy to ignore his problems in this way, but he felt like he finally understood what his mum had always said about the restorative powers of a good cry—not that it was a coping mechanism he wanted to continue with while in the dorms. 

It had been slightly awkward to see Scorpius once everyone had returned to Grimmauld Place on Boxing day, but it wasn’t intolerable. If Scorpius had noticed Albus putting a bit of distance between them and spending more time in communal areas of the house, he thankfully didn’t say anything about it.

By an amazing stroke of luck, Albus and Scorpius had snagged a compartment to themselves, so they sat together in comfortable silence. Scorpius read yet another Terry Pratchett book (his latest obsession), while Albus stared out of the window and got lost in his thoughts. 

He’d more or less come to terms with the fact that Scorpius would forever be his brother and nothing more. He wasn’t exactly happy about it, and it made him sick to his stomach every time he let his mind drift to thoughts of what he and Scorpius would never have, but he’d made his peace with it. As long as Scorpius never got a girlfriend or went on any dates, ever, he was sure he could cope with just being best friends. It was better than chasing him off with declarations of love and never seeing or hearing from him again. 

After walking in on his brother and Teddy getting… _ intimately acquainted _ over Christmas (did anyone else know there was something going on there? He made a mental note to check with Rose, since she seemed to know everything about everyone), he’d come to the conclusion that he was, in fact, quite gay—rather than just gay for Scorpius as he’d thought previously. So, he was now working up the courage to come out to Scorpius. The decision had sat in the back of his mind for a week, and though he knew Scorpius wouldn’t have a problem with it, he still hadn’t found the right time to say the words out loud. 

He thought, perhaps, he could ask Scorpius for help in finding a boyfriend. Sure, it might be weird asking his crush to assist him in his quest for sexual exploration, but with any luck, it would help distract him from his inconvenient feelings; and maybe—just maybe—Scorpius might get a teeny bit jealous and realise he was madly in love with Albus. 

They were nearing the Scottish border when Albus became aware of raised voices in the corridor beyond their compartment door, but he paid them no mind; spirits were always high on the train journey back to school as everyone excitedly recounted their Christmas break stories and showed off their new toys. It wasn’t uncommon to see people dashing through the narrow corridor past the compartment windows as they chased a fly-away snitch or mini broomstick. Albus had pulled the blinds down not long after they’d left London, though, so he couldn’t tell who was out there. It was the easiest way to ensure they weren’t interrupted—it was an unwritten rule of the train that if the blinds of a compartment were drawn, the occupants didn’t want to be disturbed. Apparently,  _ some _ people clearly thought this rule didn’t apply  _ them _ , Albus noted, as their compartment door opened, revealing Rose and Mabel on the other side.

“Oh. It’s you,” Rose said, sniffing indifferently before turning to Mabel. “D’you wanna sit here or try further down?” Albus had barely spoken to Rose over Christmas due to her avoiding him, and she’d been absent on New Year’s Eve when Ron and Hermione had visited with Hugo, so he still hadn’t found out what, if anything, was wrong with her.

“Ugh, it’s fine here, I suppose. Everywhere else is rammed, and it’s not like there’s far to go,” Mabel replied, glowering at Scorpius before turning her attention back to Rose.

“Who said we want you sitting with us?” snapped Albus, while Scorpius greeted them both brightly.

“Oh, grow up, Al. You and your boyfriend will have plenty of time alone once we get back to school,” sneered Rose. 

“My what? He’s— We’re not—” Albus spluttered, his cheeks turning pink. “He’s not my boyfriend!”

“Whatever.” Rose waved a hand dismissively and both her and Mabel sat on the same side of the compartment as him, immediately starting up a whispered conversation.

Albus frowned and looked back at Scorpius to see if he found this whole situation as weird as he did. Scorpius just stared at his book, his pale skin flushed, and refused to meet Albus’ eye. Huffing, Albus crossed his arms across his chest and turned his gaze back out of the window. The further north the train travelled, the whiter the countryside became, and Albus could feel his good mood ebb away with each chug of the train. 

The girls continued their hissed conversation until they were well into the Highlands. Albus was just thinking about gathering his things together ready to leave the train when a hush fell over the compartment. He hadn’t realised how acclimatised he‘d become to the girls’ whispering until it stopped.

“Mabel, don’t,” Rose said sternly, causing both Albus and Scorpius to look round in confusion.

“No, it needs to be said,” Mabel replied. She stood up and faced Scorpius, her face clouded with anger. Albus had never thought her particularly attractive, but there was a fierceness there that put him in mind of Scorpius’ Auntie Pansy. Right now, she looked bloody terrifying.

“Scorpius, you are a coward and a liar. I understand that you might not want people to know you’re gay, but it was wrong of you to lead me on the way you did when you’re not even remotely interested in girls.”

Scorpius’ eyebrows flew up into his hair. His mouth dropped open, but nothing came out except for a strangled choke. Albus would have laughed, but he was sure his own expression was similar. Sitting on the seat behind Mabel, Rose said nothing, but her lips were pursed. She looked torn between showing support for her friend and bursting out laughing.

“Were you both in on it?” She yelled, rounding on Albus. “Did you both have a good laugh at my expense? If all you wanted was a…a…beard, Scorpius, you could have just asked. I thought you were supposed to be a nice guy, but you’re worse than the rest of them!” With her piece said, Mabel turned on her heel and stormed out of the compartment. 

“But I…I’m not gay…” Scorpius said weakly, looking between Rose and Albus in confusion.

“Maybe you shouldn’t have ditched her for your  _ best mate _ halfway through the date, then,” Rose said pointedly before following Mabel out of the compartment. She slid the door shut with such force, the windows rattled.

“Well, that explains why she was in such a strop over Christmas,” Albus muttered, chuckling nervously. He looked at Scorpius, hoping they could diffuse the tension with a joke or two, but Scorpius looked horrified and more than a little bit sick. Was it because he’d been called gay or because she’d said he wasn’t a ‘nice guy’? Albus wasn’t sure he  _ wanted _ to know.

“Does she really think we’re… _ you know _ ?” Scorpius hissed, gesturing frantically between himself and Albus. “I mean, Rose always calls us boyfriends, but everyone knows it’s a joke, right? What an absolutely preposterous thought! I mean, I’m not even...And you’re not…so why would she even say something ridiculous like that?” Scorpius tittered, and it sounded shrill and hysterical to Albus’ ears. He looked like he was about to hyperventilate as he muttered about girls and their crazy notions.

Albus watched him struggle to form a coherent sentence but didn’t want to step in and help. Scorpius was putting himself very firmly in the ‘ _ not gay _ ’ camp, and Albus was trying not to break down and wail at the unfairness of life. The last shreds of hope that there may be  _ something _ more between them were dashed. He couldn’t do this. He couldn’t be in love with his best friend. A best friend that found the idea of them together as so ‘ _ absolutely preposterous _ ’ that he lost the power of speech.

A wheezing cloud of steam and squealing of brakes signalled their arrival at Hogsmeade station. Albus made the most of the distraction and scrambled to leave the compartment, ignoring Scorpius’ shouts of ‘ _ Wait! _ ’ as he wound through the crowd and jumped onto the first thestral-drawn carriage he saw.

Scorpius barely said anything when he wandered into the Great Hall twenty minutes after Albus. He muttered a ‘ _ Hello _ ’ when he sat beside him but spent the welcome back feast pushing food around his plate rather than eating. 

Albus couldn’t say he blamed him; he didn’t have much appetite himself. His brain kept replaying the look of horror on Scorpius’ face when Mabel had accused him of being gay. In a way, he was glad he had found out sooner rather than later that there was no hope for them. He was especially pleased he hadn’t confessed his crush over Christmas, as he’d briefly thought of doing. It already felt like he’d been rejected, so he could only imagine how much worse it would have been to be rejected  _ after _ baring his soul.

Scorpius remained silent as they walked back to the dungeons to unpack their trunks and got ready for bed. Albus hadn’t realised how reassuring he found Scorpius’ constant chatter until now. It was like walking around with an impostor, and not a very good one, at that. He did his best to ignore the pain in his chest, but it was hard. He wanted to talk to Scorpius—to ask him why he was so repulsed by the idea that someone thought him gay and in a relationship with Albus, but every time he looked up, Scorpius hastily looked away or pretended to be busy, and the words never came. 

In the end, Albus crawled into bed a little past nine and drew the curtains around it, blocking out the room and cocooning himself under his blankets. He couldn’t sleep though, and instead just lay there listening to the sounds of his roommates shuffling about, opening and closing doors and drawers, chatting, and getting ready for bed. 

He was still awake long after the other noises in the room had petered out. All he could hear now were Etienne’s rough, uneven snores and the sound of water gurgling on the other side of the wall. It used to terrify him when he first started school and realised his dormitory was underwater; the ever-present sound of water was a constant reminder that death by drowning was only a pane of glass away. Now he found the sounds soothing and often found it difficult to adjust to sleeping without the sound of water when he was home for the holidays.

Albus had begun to doze off when the noise of bed springs creaking and a curtain swishing open caught his attention. He quickly dismissed it as being one of his roommates getting up to use the toilet (a side effect of sleeping in an underwater room was that they had all developed night-time pee habits; everyone in Slytherin wet the bed at least once, but no one ever spoke about it). He huffed and rolled over, punching his pillow a few times—as if a flat pillow was all that was keeping him from falling asleep—but then froze as a sound came from the other side of his curtains.

“Psssst, Al? Are you awake?” someone hissed. 

It sounded like…but it couldn’t be. But was it…“Scorpius?” he hissed back.

The curtain wobbled a bit as Scorpius fumbled for an opening; then his head appeared in the gap, glowing in the pale light from the small orb Albus’ had conjured, his normally neatly coiffed blond hair wild and unruly around his face. “Hey, can…can I come in?” he whispered.

Albus nodded dumbly and shuffled over to make room. Scorpius slipped through and pulled the curtains closed behind him. They arranged themselves side by side on the bed, backs pressed against the headboard as was their usual way. It was a lot harder to sit like this now they were both larger—at sixteen, their shoulders were broadening—but they managed to make it work. It was lucky that Scorpius was more lanky than broad, and Albus hadn’t been gifted with the same muscular frame as his elder brother or they may have to resort to sitting one on top of the other…and that was not an image Albus wanted to dwell on right now. Later, though…

Scorpius hugged his knees to his chest and stared at an indistinct point towards the foot of the bed, his pale toes wiggling up and down as he mulled something over. Albus watched him silently, willing him to break the silence, but even though he opened his mouth to speak several times, Scorpius said nothing.

“Did you want something?” Albus asked gruffly, losing what little patience he had when Scorpius’ mouth flapped open then closed for the fifth time. He was tired and confused and really wanted this all the awkwardness and hurt to be done with.

“I…yes. I want to apologise for whatever I did to upset you,” Scorpius said, picking at the blanket, then smoothing it down with his slender fingers. 

Albus was silent as he turned the words over in his head, but no matter which way he looked at it, they sounded meaningless and hollow. Anger that had been simmering since the incident on the train boiled over. “’ _ Whatever you did _ ’?” Albus spat. “You really don’t know?” 

Scorpius drew back, affronted that his apology hadn’t been accepted without question. “Well, I assume it was something that happened on the train, but you know it wasn’t  _ my _ fault that the girls yelled at us, right? I mean, just because I don’t like Mabel like that, all of a sudden, we’re gay? It’s ridiculous!”

“Just fuck off. I want to sleep.” Albus shuffled down the bed, turned his back on Scorpius, and tugged the blankets over his shoulders. Scorpius seemed to miss the very clear hint that he was done with the conversation, though, since he made no move to leave the bed.

“No! I’m not fucking off until you tell me  _ exactly _ what I’ve done wrong and how to bloody well fix it. You’re not allowed to just ignore me, Albus Severus Potter!” Scorpius shouted, prodding Albus in the back with a bony finger.

“I can do—” Albus’ angry retort was cut off by Etienne shouting from across the other side of the room.

“Christ on a bike! Can you two PLEASE have your domestic somewhere else? Or better yet, use a fucking silencing charm. Some of us actually want to sleep tonight!” 

Scorpius slapped a hand over his mouth, eyebrows leaping up to his hairline. “Sorry!” he squeaked, before grabbing Albus’ wand from where it lay between them and casting the charm. Albus scowled, snatching his wand back and stuffing it back in its usual place beneath his pillow. He folded his arms across his chest and glared at the end of the bed, refusing to look at Scorpius.

“Please, just go. I’ve got nothing to say to you,” he growled.

“Albus, no! You have to let me fix this! You’re my best friend.” Scorpius wrapped a hand around his upper arm and squeezed gently, but Albus shook him off.

“Yeah? But would you still be my best friend if I was gay?”

Scorpius frowned in confusion. “But…you’re not, are you?”

The glowing orb above them flickered as Albus’ control on his magic wavered. He felt so betrayed, so angry. He knew he was being irrational—that Scorpius wasn’t being oblivious or hurtful on purpose—but he was too far gone to pull himself back now. He just wanted to be alone, and Scorpius would not take the fucking hint.

“That says it all, really. Now, bugger the fuck off.”

“Wait, no, of course I don’t care if you’re gay. I can’t believe you’d even think that!”

“You looked like you might be sick when Mabel called you gay earlier. What am I supposed to think?”

“I…I was just surprised! And then Rose said about us being boyfriends, and I know how much you hate that, but then you buggered off before I could say anything. I don’t care if you’re gay, bi, pan, whatever. You should know that!”

Albus chanced a look at Scorpius, who hadn’t dared touch him since he’d shaken his hand off his arm, and immediately regretted it when he saw the watery eyes and fresh tear tracks. The bastard was even pretty when he cried, Albus thought sourly as his heart clenched at the sight. He sighed and studied his hands for a moment as he calmed himself down. He couldn’t stay mad at Scorpius, not when he looked so miserable.

“Why do you hate it so much, anyway? Is it because of me?” Scorpius asked softly. When Albus lifted his head to face him again, Scorpius was sitting with his legs hugged to his chest. His cheek was rested on his knees so his face was tilted towards him, watching Albus keenly.

“Hate what?” 

“The idea of…us” 

Albus was confused. He was fairly certain it wasn’t him who’d been against things  _ progressing _ between them. “You’re the one that called it  _ preposterous, _ ” he said, sneering the word.

“Yes, fine, but only because I thought that’s what you wanted to hear! You jump away from me as if I’ve shocked you whenever you think someone might see us being ‘too close,’” he said, lifting his hands to make air quotes. 

Albus shifted until he was on his back and scrubbed his hands over his face, groaning as realisation dawned on him. 

He couldn’t argue with that. Scorpius was right—and here he was acting like a twat the one time Scorpius acted the same way he’d been acting for years. He felt the bed dip as Scorpius moved and positioned himself so he was lying on his back too, a warm, comforting presence along Albus’ side. Tentatively, Albus pulled his hands down and felt for Scorpius’ left hand with his right. They lay there for several minutes, hand in hand, staring up at the bed canopy, neither speaking. Scorpius twisted his hand and laced their fingers together, and Albus knew he’d never have a better moment than this to come clean.

“Scorpius…I…I’m so sorry I was like that,” he started hesitantly. He paused, wondering how best to continue, wondering whether to continue at all…but he knew if he said nothing now he’d regret it. “I’ve been so confused and…and…ignorant about parts of myself, but recently I’ve realised some things—about me, and about how I feel about you—and…well, I think I lo…ike you. I like you. A lot more than is normal for friends, and I understand if this makes you uncomfortable or whatever, so if you want to, I dunno, hang out less…or not at all, then…” he shrugged, unwilling to utter the words. It’d be a lie, after all, to say he would be okay with Scorpius putting any sort of distance between them. 

Scorpius said nothing. Albus felt tears prickling in the corners of his eyes, threatening to spill down his face. Maybe they already were—he couldn’t tell. He felt numb. He wasn’t used to being so open with his emotions—not even with Scorpius—and the lack of any sort of response was tearing him apart. The silence wedged the knife deeper into his heart. He tried to unlace their fingers and pull away, but Scorpius tightened his grip.

“Scor—?” Albus started, turning his head to look at Scorpius. The mattress creaked as Scorpius rolled to face him, and Albus gasped when he raised his free hand and cupped Albus’ cheek. 

“What are you saying?” he asked softly, silver eyes flicking back and forth over Albus’ face, studying him, while his thumb brushed gently across his jaw. He was so close, Albus could feel his breath ghosting across his lips, still minty from when he’d brushed his teeth before bed.

Albus turned fully to face him, and their knees knocked together. There was barely any space between them, but it felt like too much. He tentatively rested his free hand on Scorpius’ waist, his fingertips grazing warm skin where his pyjama top had crawled up. Scorpius didn’t flinch away from touch, but his breath hitched. Emboldened, Albus brushed his fingers over the exposed skin, pushing the material further out of the way.

He closed his eyes and sighed as Scorpius slid a hand along his jaw and into his hair, reducing the distance between them until their foreheads were pressed together. “What do you want from me?” Scorpius asked against his lips.

“I want you,” he murmured. “I want to hold your hand when we walk to class, I want to keep you warm at night, I want to be able to kiss you, and…I…I want to take you out to Madam Puddifoot’s next Hogsmeade weekend.”

Scorpius stilled, and Albus thought for a terrifying second he was about to be rejected. Had he come on too strong? He hadn’t meant to say those things; the words had a life of their own. But then Scorpius snorted, a smile breaking out across his face. “Merlin, who knew there was such a romantic soul trapped inside your ornery body,” Scorpius said with a breathy chuckle, scratching his fingers through Albus’ hair.

“Shut up.” He muttered, grinning sheepishly and prodding Scorpius in his side.

Scorpius squirmed and emitted a strangled shriek as Albus’ fingers sought to torture his side further, but there was no mistaking the ‘ _ make me _ ’ he grunted between gasping breaths. Albus knew a challenge when he heard one; he upped his assault, jabbing his fingers into any parts of Scorpius’ torso left unguarded while at the same time trying to prevent Scorpius from getting him back. It was a blur of limbs and grunts and laughs and squeals as they each wrestled for the upper hand, bodies entwined, breaths heavy. Albus groaned lightheartedly, recognising defeat as Scorpius straddled his hips and pinned his wrists above his head, his lanky frame giving him an advantage over Albus’ more compact stature. Scorpius’ beamed down delightedly at him, his chest heaving from the exertion, and Albus couldn’t help but mimic his expression. He was dimly aware of the intimacy of their position, but it didn’t really register until he caught Scorpius’ gaze flicking down to his lips.

That was all it took for the mood to shift. The air between them suddenly seemed thicker, and the atmosphere charged with potential. Scorpius’ face was only a few inches from his own. Although they weren’t actually touching anywhere other than where Scorpius held his wrists, he could feel the warmth of his body as he hovered above him. His pyjama bottoms were already tented from the brief tussle, and he knew if he twitched his hips up even the slightest amount, Scorpius would be able to  _ feel _ just how much Albus liked him. 

He didn’t move though. He couldn’t move a muscle. He just stared up into those sharp grey eyes he knew so well, his breathing slow and careful as he tried to decide how far he could push things.

Before he could follow that thought to its conclusion, Scorpius ducked his head down and closed the distance between them. As soon as their lips made contact, Albus’ brain stalled. Scorpius was kissing him! Involuntarily, he inhaled sharply, shocked by the boldness of the move despite the fact that he was planning on doing the same thing. Scorpius must have interpreted it as a noise of displeasure as he immediately pulled back.

“Oh Merlin, I’m so so sorry! I didn’t…I mean, I did, but did I completely misinterpret—” Scorpius babbled in a panic.

Scorpius looked like he was about to flee. It was the last thing Albus wanted, so when words failed him, he decided to let his actions speak instead. 

He surged forward, cutting Scorpius off mid-babble and rolling him onto his back, almost tumbling them both out of bed. They hastily shuffled to the centre, and before Albus could reconsider whether it was a good idea or not, he crashed their lips together in a messy, uncoordinated second kiss. 

He pulled back almost straight away, but Scorpius didn’t let him get very far; he hooked his hands around the back of Albus’ neck and dragged him back. It was closed-lipped and chaste despite the fire behind it. Albus desperately wanted to deepen it, needing everything Scorpius wanted to offer him, but he didn’t know what to do. He suddenly found himself wishing he’d had the opportunity to practice kissing before—what if Scorpius thought he was rubbish and decided he never wanted to do it with him again? But then he felt Scorpius’ mouth open beneath his, a tongue hesitantly licking the seam of his lips, and he switched his brain off, allowing his body’s innate knowledge take over. Noses bumped and teeth clacked, mouths wet and frantic as they moved against each other, but Albus’ body thrummed with pleasure. He was certain he’d never enjoyed anything as much as he was enjoying kissing his best friend. 

Then Scorpius tilted his hips up and all rational thought fled Albus’ mind as their erections brushed against each other through their pyjama bottoms.

Albus groaned and thrust down, chasing the delicious friction. Scorpius’ arms wound tightly around him, keeping him close as they messily kissed and dry-humped—a sweaty, uncoordinated mass of teenage lust and hormones. He could feel his orgasm rapidly approaching—this was nothing like what he’d experienced with his own hand in the shower, or face down on his bed with a pillow between his legs. Scorpius’ body was hard and lithe beneath him, but yet so warm, his skin soft and inviting. 

Suddenly, he felt Scorpius stiffen, and he gasped Albus’ name. His movements stuttered and warmth blossoming between them as his erection pulsed his release. Albus followed shortly after, everything turning white as the most spectacular orgasm he’d ever felt crashed over him.

He stilled, catching his breath and waiting for brain function to return, his face pressed into Scorpius’ neck. Beneath him, Scorpius was breathing heavily, but his arms were still wrapped tightly around Albus’ torso, as if he didn’t want to let him go. After a moment, Albus reluctantly rolled off him. His pyjamas clung uncomfortably to his skin from a mixture of cum and sweat, and his mouth was sore, but he couldn’t stop grinning. 

As his orgasm-high started to fade, a snide little voice in the back of his mind told him to make the most of it—that he’d ruined his friendship, that Scorpius would want nothing to do with him now—but before he could get too worked up, Scorpius grabbed his hand. He glanced over, nervous about what he might see, but he was blown away by the bright grin plastered across Scorpius’ face.

“So…” Scorpius said breathily.

“So,” Albus repeated, chuckling nervously. This was it. This was where Scorpius told him that the experiment was over; that he had now confirmed he was one hundred percent straight, and they would forever have to remain ‘ _ just friends _ ’.

“We are definitely doing that again,” Scorpius announced, squeezing Albus’ hand.

Albus’ heart leapt into his throat. For a terrifying moment, he thought he might actually cry from happiness. “Yeah?”

“Yeah! Unless…Oh Merlin, was I awful? I’ve never done this before but I promise can improve! You know I’m a fast learner!”

“No! You were great! Amazing, even. But…” Albus wanted to kick himself, but he really,  _ really _ had to make sure they were both on the same page, “…you really want this? Like you and me, together? Because I don’t think I can do this if you’re just messing around…”

Scorpius scoffed and then rolled over, pinning Albus to the bed, hands planted either side of his head. He grimaced as the soggy patch in his pyjama bottoms squelched beneath Scorpius’ weight and saw a similar look of disgust flicker across his friend’s face. “Hey, come on. I’d never do that to you. I’ve fancied you for ages, you idiot,” Scorpius said, pressing a kiss to Albus’ nose. 

“What? Why didn’t you say anything?!”

“Because I thought it would make things awkward if you didn’t like me back!”

“Oh…yeah, I get that,” Albus said sheepishly. He craned his neck up, closing the gap between them, and kissing those perfectly pink lips that he could now kiss any time he wanted. 

When they eventually pulled apart, he winced when he realised the drying cum had glued his pyjamas to his pubic hair. “Ugh. We should have cleaned up…” he muttered picking at the fabric to pull it off his skin. 

Scorpius snorted. “Oh my gosh, it feels vile! Oh, but I can’t be bothered to shower. I’m so tired and comfy.” He nuzzled into Albus’ side and slung an arm across his chest as if to emphasise his point.

“Quick scourgify now and shower before breakfast tomorrow?” Albus suggested. He was in no hurry to move from their current position.

“Sounds like a plan.” Scorpius fumbled beneath the pillow for Albus’ wand before producing it with a flourish. “Do you want to do the honours, or shall I?”

“Go for it,” Albus replied sleepily, allowing his eyes to drift shut. Now that he was sated and the earlier stress resolved, it seemed his body was finally ready for sleep. Scorpius muttered the charm; he shivered as a cool, fresh wave of magic washed over his skin. Scorpius then nox’d the dim night-light that had been floating above the bed and tugged the blankets over them both. 

The last thing he was aware of before sleep claimed him was Scorpius throwing an arm over him as he pressed himself against Albus’ back. 

 

* * *

 

Albus grumbled as his wand alarm vibrated and trilled, waking him up in time for morning lessons. He was never particularly great in the mornings, but the first day back after a break was worse than all Monday mornings combined. At least term started mid-week this year, so he only had to suffer a couple of days of lessons before the weekend. He groaned and raised his arms above his head to stretch the sleepiness away, and then froze as he came into contact with another body. 

Scorpius! He felt his cheeks redden as the previous night’s activities came flooding back with startling clarity, swelling his dick back to full mast. 

“Morning” Scorpius drawled, looking delightfully debauched where he lay stretched out on Albus’ bed. The blankets had at some point in the night been kicked down to the foot of the bed, so Albus got a perfect, unobstructed view of the tent in Scorpius’ pyjama bottoms. Scorpius followed his line of sight and smirked, although the pink blotches that stained his cheeks suggested that he wasn’t feeling as confident as he looked.

“Morning,” Albus replied, his voice still thick with sleep. He couldn’t help but smile at the image before him; Scorpius was still here, in his bed. He hadn’t run off; he didn’t look upset or shameful. He looked radiantly happy…and very, very aroused.

Without thinking, Albus leant forward and pressed a kiss to Scorpius’ lips. The other boy hummed and hooked a hand behind Albus’ head, pulling him closer and deepening the kiss, as if this was something they did all the time. Albus stifled a groan as his erection grazed Scorpius’ leg.

“Morning breath kisses are gross,” Scorpius said with a soft laugh after breaking for air.

Albus was momentarily offended before he realised he was in agreement; plus, he found it exceptionally difficult to stay mad at Scorpius at the best of times, let alone when he was grinning at him so hungrily. “Yeah, you’re right. Want to stop?”

“Good lord, no. I’ll likely take someone’s eye out walking around with this all day.”

“And that’s my problem, is it?”

“Mm-hmm. Definitely your problem,” Scorpius purred, his voice rumbling through Albus and sending a shiver across his skin.

Feeling unaccountably brave and ridiculously turned on, Albus snaked a hand between them and palmed Scorpius’ clothed erection. The fabric was damp where it strained across the leaking head of his penis. 

Albus almost ripped his hand away in surprise—he’d never felt a dick other than his own (the previous night’s activities didn’t count as they didn’t actually  _ touch _ ), and it was a strange sensation. Scorpius gasped in shock, but when he groaned and pressed his face into the crook of Albus’ neck, Albus’ surge of bravery returned. He withdrew his hand, then slid it beneath Scorpius’ pyjama bottoms, circling his length with his trembling fingers. He started slow, getting used to the feel and weight of another boy’s dick in his hand, but Scorpius’ little moans and gasps spurred him on, encouraging him to move faster, to try out things he liked to do to himself. After no time at all, Scorpius came with a barely stifled moan, panting heavily against Albus’ neck for a few short moments before rolling onto his back, still somewhat breathless, but giggling inanely.

“Oh sweet Merlin, remind me why we waited so long to do that? Bloody hell.”

Before Albus could formulate an answer, Scorpius pushed him onto his back and grabbed his shaft through his pyjamas. “Your turn!” he smirked, and Albus definitely did not shriek.

 

* * *

 

“I need a shower,” Albus whined, once they had both recovered. “Do you think the others have gone to breakfast yet?”

Scorpius shrugged. “No idea, why?” He hadn’t bothered to pull up his pyjama bottoms, so Albus unashamedly let his gaze wander down his body, drinking up the sight that up until very recently he’d thought would remain a fantasy.

“Well, we don’t want anyone to see you sneaking out of my bed, do we?”

“I suppose so.” Scorpius sat up stiffly, his expression suddenly closed off as he yanked his pyjamas back on. “This is how you want to do it, then?” Scorpius asked coldly.

“What? What do you mean?” Albus’ chest tightened as panic flared up inside him. He’d known he would be the one to fuck up their relationship even before they had one, but he’d never imagined he’d screw things up so quickly. 

“You want us to be a secret?”

“No! Maybe? I don’t know! I just don’t want to shove it in everyone’s faces. We don’t even know what we are yet, so I’d rather not have to deal with a thousand and one questions from everyone demanding that we define something we haven’t even talked properly about.”

Scorpius sighed, and his posture softened slightly. “I suppose I can see your point,” he said dejectedly. “I’m just excited. I want to show off my boyfriend to everyone.”

“Your  _ what _ ?”

“Boyfriend? Or…oh crap. That’s not what you wanted? I thought… Oh Merlin. I’m sorry.”

“No, wait, I do want that! I want us to be…. _ boyfriends _ . It’s just weird to hear it spoken out loud. It took me by surprise, is all. And this is why we should talk about things.”

Scorpius relaxed and shuffled back to lean against the headboard. “Okay. So we’re sort-of-secret boyfriends. You do realise half the school already thinks we’re dating, if Rose is to be believed.”

“They do?” Albus scrubbed a hand over his face and sat next to Scorpius. He knew he wasn’t ashamed of Scorpius, he just didn’t like people talking about him, but it wasn’t like he could stop them. There would be comparisons to his dad, to his siblings, no matter what he did, so did he really want to keep the best thing that had ever happened to him a secret? “You know what, fine. I don’t care who knows. Let them ask their questions—I can always just tell them to fuck off.”

“That’s the spirit!” Scorpius grinned, wrapping an arm around his shoulders and pulling him into a hug. “Come on, let’s shower. I’m famished.”

Albus poked his head out of the curtains. When he determined that the room was clear, he and Scorpius grabbed their toiletries and dashed for the showers. He knew they would already be cutting it fine to make it to breakfast before class started, so as much as it pained him to do so, he declined Scorpius’ offer to shower together. 

As he massaged the shampoo into his hair, he thought about how right everything felt with Scorpius. He had thought any physical intimacy between them would make things weird, but it really hadn’t—not yet, anyway. It added an extra depth to their already close relationship without affecting anything else…although, he reminded himself, it had only been a few hours…

They walked up to the Great Hall side by side as usual. Albus was sure everyone would be able to tell what they’d been up to just from looking at him; despite his assurances to Scorpius that he really was okay with people knowing they were ‘official,’ he kept slightly more distance between them than perhaps he would ordinarily do. 

It wasn’t just nervousness about coming out that had him on edge. He felt like his skin was on fire every time their hands brushed. He was worried he wouldn’t be able to stop himself from pushing Scorpius against the nearest hard surface and rutting up against him until they were both in need of another shower. It was as if a dam had been breached, and now a physical element had been added to their relationship—all he could think about was touching and tasting the other boy. Lessons were going to be torture!

 

* * *

 

Albus was so caught up in his own thoughts on the trek to breakfast that he hadn’t noticed what the weather was doing. However, upon stepping through the doors into the Great Hall, one quick glance at the ceiling was all he needed to inform him that the bloody snow was back again.

“Great. Just…fucking brilliant. I hate this stupid country. Remind me why I didn’t go to school somewhere else? Is it too late to get a transfer?”

“Oh, hush. Hogwarts is in your blood, and you know it,” Scorpius said with a friendly whack to his arm. “What shall we do later, then? Fancy another go at snowman building? Or sledging, perhaps?” 

“You can fuck right off if you think I’m going outside again until spring. How about you go and play in the snow, and I’ll stay in the dorm and keep my bed warm, ready for when you finish and need to defrost a bit,” he smirked, waggling his eyebrows suggestively.

“Mmm, I suppose that doesn’t sound too bad...” Scorpius said, rubbing his chin thoughtfully.

Scorpius leant closer and pressed a kiss to his temple, ruffling a hand through his hair. Albus froze, quickly glancing around the table at their house mates, but to his surprise, no one so much as batted an eyelid. Perhaps Rose was right—everyone already thought they were together. He thought this would scare him, maybe even piss him off that everyone knew his heart before he did, but it actually left him feeling warm and smug. Scorpius was his, for real, and he wanted everyone to know. As he scanned the table one last time to check for reactions, his gaze lit upon the head table, and he saw Professor Malfoy staring at him open-mouthed, a forkful of food frozen halfway between the plate and his mouth.

“Um, Scorp? I think your Dad knows about us,” Albus said, finally pulling his gaze from Draco’s.

“Hmm? Oh, well, that saves me having to go down to his office later, I suppose,” he said, waving at his father and giving him a thumbs up. 

This seemed to break Draco from his shock, as he blinked a few times and returned to his food. Scorpius, completely unfazed by casually coming out to his father, launched into a detailed description of his revision plan, so Albus put any worries out of his mind and let Scorpius’ voice provide the soundtrack to his meal. 

He supposed he should owl his dad before the news reached him through some other source, but he wasn’t overly concerned. It might even go down better if he heard it through Draco, and he wouldn’t have to put up with his dad’s smug ‘ _ I told you so _ ’ face…

That weekend, despite the continued snowfall, and all of Scorpius’ threats to get Albus involved in a snowball fight, or ice skating, or snowman building, neither of them ended up going outside after all. Instead, Scorpius eagerly agreed that they should get started on the apr è s-snow activities that Albus meticulously planned, and they made the most of having the common room and dormitory mostly to themselves. 

Albus decided that he actually quite liked snow in the end, especially if it meant spending the day under blankets with Scorpius, keeping each other warm. 

Not that he’d ever tell  _ him _ that.

 

END

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading! Find me on tumblr @ [coriesocks](https://www.tumblr.com/blog/coriesocks)


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